


The Roommate

by Deancebra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Bits of fluff, Dead John Winchester, Dean Has Issues, Dean is shit with emotions, Depression, Emotions, Graphic description of nightmares, Grief, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Issues with designated gender, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mental Health Issues, Omega Dean, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Protective Castiel, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Therapy, Winchester Coping Mechanisms, mating cycles/ in heat, mentions of mpreg, realistic recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-06-13 01:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 54,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deancebra/pseuds/Deancebra
Summary: Dean once thought presenting was a good thing—something to make his absent, alcoholic father proud. But of course, that didn't count if it turned out he'd been born with a fucking uterus instead of a knot.Years later the ghosts of the past haven't left him, and John’s death didn't change the facts: Dean was a failure, someone to be ashamed of.Castiel was just too damned stubborn to see that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, it is about time I post another A/B/O, is it (k)not? 
> 
> I once again find myself dealing with gender issues, sexuality, mental health problem and shitty coping mechanisms. Those that have followed my previous works might see a theme here. Oh yeah, and the way society tends to treat people. That's also a theme in this one. 
> 
> I'll probably update ever thursday. 
> 
> I have to thank [Adaille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaille/pseuds/adaille)  
> for all their hard work on beta'ing this fic and making it worth reading, the loving words and awesome comments along the way,  
> [DayDreamDestiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamdestiel)  
> for cheering on me and making me smile and [Wargurl83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wargurl83/pseuds/Wargurl83)  
> for early read-throughs.
> 
> You as a reader probably also already know that I'm not particular nice. Dean his having a really hard time, he is horrible at dealing with it. 
> 
> I will always, always, always recommand that you seek help if you think you may need it. My own experience is that once you have reached the point where you realise help is necessary, you should have been helped long ago. Talk with friends, family, therapist, coworkers, people online. 
> 
> Please take care of yourself and don't read if you think anything will squick you. 
> 
> I also strongly encourage comments, suggestions and speculations. I love reading what you write, it makes my day and it's always a joy to discuss things with you guys. 
> 
> ~ Deancebra

The foul stench of burning meat shoved Dean back into the present. His thoughts had stolen his ability to be present as it so often happened. The salad was at the least still edible. He hoped, anyway. Greens had never been his specialty.

It wasn’t like he’d ever meant to be a burden to anyone. Somehow it’d just turned out like that, gradually in a way where he didn’t realize it until it was way too late. At this point, Dean had no idea how to turn the boat around, how to get safely back to the shore. Things had turned sour already when he’d presented, but it wasn’t like he could blame it all on his secondary gender for burning meat. If anything, weren’t omegas supposed to be the housekeepers?

Swallowing, he let the smoldering meat hit the trashcan before rinsing the pan under scalding water. Thankfully he’d only ruined the steak and not the pan as well. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to replace one. Dean shook his head, like that would shake out the thoughts and allow him to cook.

Luckily, he had chicken in the fridge. Sam would probably be happier with that anyway. Healthy, lean protein. It just hadn’t been what he had hoped to serve his little brother when he came around for dinner. If he knew his brother, Sam got enough lean protein and not enough red meat.

Dean turned up the music with a sigh, and let the familiar rhythm and sound capture him. It didn’t always work, but that evening, _Enter Sandman_ was all he needed to keep focus on the task ahead of him.

The chicken turn out decent if he had to say so himself. Juicy with a crisp outside. It was a shame with the beef, that his inadequacy had led to him burning it to inedible, bitter pieces. It was a damned shame he wasted food like that, didn’t manage to better by his brother. He’d been able to fool Sam so far, but maybe that night would be the night where he caught the stench of burned meat from the trashcan, where he realised what a failure Dean truly was.

Dean wanted a smoke, craved it. But Sam hated when he smelled like he’d rolled around in an ashtray and Dean saw no reason to give his brother reason to start the old discussion.

Sam announced his presence as per usual. Banging into the apartment without knocking or ringing the bell, hollering a “HEY DEAN!” as if he wanted the overhead ceiling lights in the entrance to fall by the force of his voice alone. If the power of his voice wasn’t enough, Dean feared he would smack his head into them.

Dean figured it meant that he still felt at home. It warmed.

“In the kitchen,” Dean yelled back.

“I’ve brought dessert and beers.”

“Pie?” he asked hopefully, knowing very well that his love for pie was close to an unhealthy obsession. Should he ever forget, his brother would surely remind him.

“Apple,” Sam confirmed as he walked into the kitchen with a white back in one hand and a six-pack in the other.

“Fuck yeah.”

Without asking, his giant little brother placed the beers in the fridge and the pie on the counter. After all, Sam was just as familiar with the kitchen as Dean.

They’d shared the place for about half a year after Sam had decided to transfer from Stanford to Kansas and until a few months ago. Dean was (not so) secretly happy to have his little brother closer by.

“Thought about having a roommate?” Sam interrupted his thoughts.

Dean shrugged. He was making enough that a roomie wasn’t a necessity. He’d rented an apartment inexpensive enough that Dean hadn’t needed Sam to pay rent while living with him. But weeknight dinners grew lonely and Dean, used to having someone around most of the time, was not much for being left alone all the time.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, mostly to please his brother. “Haven’t done anything about it though.”

“Figured.”

The still steaming hot chicken was plated along with the salad that Dean would never admit to _enjoying_. Sam looked more than pleased by the healthy plate in front of him, giving Dean the feeling that his little brother was living entirely too much on noodles and other cheap stuff. The salad was good just like the chicken, but neither deserved the praise Sam gave it. Either way, he made a mental note of making some healthier dishes Sam could keep in his freezer and heat in the microwave whenever he needed something quick and good. Sam would bitch about Dean being a mother hen and secretly enjoy it more than anything.

The meal was, apart from Sam’s praise, mostly enjoyed in silence. Dean could tell there was something Sam wanted to talk about and that he wasn’t going to until he’d figured out if Dean was in the mood to listen.

They talked a little about Sam’s studies, how he felt more at home in Kansas than he had ever had in California, and about how Dean still loved fixing cars. Especially since his boss, Bobby, was more than happy to let him do restorations. It’d taken him more than ten cars under supervision along with the prime condition he kept the Impala in to convince the old man that Dean knew what he was doing.

“Ever thinking about going back to school?” Sam interrupted his thoughts.

“Nah man, it’s not for me. You’re the smart one of us.”

“You know that’s not true, Dean.”

It was an old argument between the two of them. Dean never understood why Sam kept nagging him about it. He was too old to go back to school. Not smart enough. And then there was the whole thing about paying for tutoring. He’d rather see his money go to Sam’s education.

For once Sam didn’t argue further, choosing to change the topic entirely.

“I know a guy looking for a space to rent. He’s living with his brother right now, but as far as I know that doesn’t work very well…” Sam let the sentence hang in the air.

“Yeah?” he answered, not entirely sure he’d be interested in renting to a complete stranger when it came down to it.

“He’s my ethics professor, so he’s a little older than you are,” Sam continued, not needing much prompt. “And he’s a really, really cool guy. I’ve talked to him a few times after classes, and I dunno, it just came up one day that his brother was driving him nuts, and I… I might’ve said that you where possibly looking for a roommate.”

“Sam!”

“I know, I know. Didn’t promise him anything though.”

“Did you even think before you told him?” he demanded. “And what if I turn him down? He could take it out on you, give you a worse grade than you deserve, he could do anything Sam, file a harassment report or something!”

“I’ve only got  two weeks left of this semester, Dean. After that I won’t see him again. And just because some alphas are jerks doesn’t mean all of them are.” There was something stupidly gentle in Sam’s voice that Dean didn’t like one bit. Like Sam was taking care of him, not the other way around.

“Still doesn’t mean he’d be cool with sharing his space with someone like me.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“He’s an ethics professor for crying out loud Dean. Of course he won’t mind you being a male omega!” Sam argued, obviously annoyed.

Dean answered with a short, acidic laugh. So many who shouldn’t care about his secondary gender did anyway. No matter how often he’d tried to explain it to Sam, his brother just didn’t get it. But why would he? He was a tall, handsome and intelligent alpha-male. And Dean was happ for him, but sometimes he wished his little brother would get his head out of his ass and realize that just because his world was functioning perfectly, it didn’t mean Dean’s was.

“Dean…” Sam started.

“You don’t get to ‘Dean’ me, okay? I’ll meet him once your semester is over, and maybe we can figure something out. But if I find him repulsive or if he acts like a douchebag or anything I won’t hear any more about this. Got it?”

Sam nodded, face serious even though Dean could sense some degree of satisfaction underneath it.

“Get me some damned pie, bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam retorted, but got up nevertheless just to return with two plates with generous helpings of pie.

Once Sam was gone, Dean was left alone with his beer, cigarettes and thoughts. Sam had told him a little more about his ethics professor, and it was clear as day that his brother admired him a lot. Didn’t mean Dean would like him one bit or that having a non-related alpha under his roof would work.

It also meant he had to face whether he was going to tell the possible new roommate about his designation. Sam made it very clear that the professor hadn’t asked and that he hadn’t told him anything either, knowing that Dean preferred to keep it a secret. But having a bottle with suppressants along with his birth control and scent-masking deodorants in the bathroom… If he decided to tell, it wouldn’t be a problem. If he decided not to then he’d have to hide it all in his bedroom instead, something he wasn’t entirely keen on doing. Maybe he’d just put off the big I-am-a-man-with-a-uterus-talk a few months. If it didn’t work out, there’d be no reason for the dude to know either way.

Spontaneous heats were a risk, but Dean hadn’t had any since he got on his suppressants. It was unlikely he had to worry about those. But he hadn’t even met the guy, let alone agreed to live with him, it wasn’t like he had to worry too much about it.

And he refused to meet the guy until Sam’s exams were over, there was a chance the professor would find someplace else to live in the meantime. Dean breathed in heavily, killing the smoke in the ashtray. He’d lost count on how many had landed there since Sam left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so overwhelmed with how many of you guys like the story so far. Thank you for the support!

To say Dean was nervous would be an understatement. He was a wreck. Even plastered in scent-disguising deodorant and gender-neutral perfume, he was able to smell himself. He wasn’t sure if he gave off the vibe of  _ omega _ , but he sure gave the vibe of being scared to death.

He’d agreed to meet Sam’s professor at a small café close to campus, preferring neutral ground for the first time. If the guy sniffed him out or turned out to be a grade A asshole, he wanted people around. It was a few hours after the last classes Dean knew, late enough that there would be some degree of privacy.

The guy would probably turn out to be okay. Sam would never have suggested it if he hadn’t been 99% sure that the professor and Dean would hit off. His kid brother knew him well enough that the guy shouldn’t be a total ass. Or so Dean hoped, anyway. It was generally one thing how people where around Sammy and something entirely other around him. Sure it’d been worse before the suppressants, before the blockers but the difference was still clear as day. 

He swallowed heavily.

 

He showed up early for their appointment, and instead of going into the café and relaxing with a cup of coffee like a normal person, he found himself in the car, drumming his fingers in tune with Zeppelin blasting through his speakers. It wasn’t entirely calming, but it worked well enough. He debated on and off on smoking beforehand, but he knew the stench would set off a lot of people. Dean didn’t want to seem like the guy who lived in a constant cloud of smoke. 

Dean was starting to regret his refusal to let Sam join in. But hell, he was an adult. He could damned well talk with a new potential roommate without his brother as backup.

Swallowing again, he turned the key, the silence overpowering in the car. Dean applied another layer of the neutral perfume, hoping it would cover the stench of his nerves. It was probably a lost cause. He just hoped he didn’t smell like omega. His thoughts kept moving in circles, repeating themselves. Dean  _ knew  _ his natural scent was masked to perfection, knew the blockers hadn’t failed, yet he kept worrying about it. 

With a few steadying breaths, he got out of the car.

He made sure she was locked three times before he felt ready to leave her safe presence.

On legs feeling a little too much like jelly for his taste, he wobbled towards the door to the café. Looking around revealed a lot of young faces, most likely some of Sam’s peers. There was more than he had hoped for, but not as many as he had feared. A birds-nest of dark hair caught his eyes, making him focus entirely on a face he hadn’t noticed at first glance. The guy was clearly older than everyone else in the café.

“Hey Professor Novak!” a young girl smiled towards nest-hair. “See you in class tomorrow!”

Oh.

So, birds-nest was his maybe-to-be-roommate.

Dean moved slowly, ready to turn around if he anything set him off. The noticed more features as he came closer. It seemed the other man had taken notice of him too, his gaze directed at Dean. He had a friendly smile playing around his lips. Nothing about him seemed threatening. Sitting, he seemed to be around Dean’s height. A strong jawline was paired with soft lips, a strong nose and hooded blue eyes. A lot of people would find him attractive. Dean did. A little. 

“Is the assumption that you are Sam’s older brother correct?” Somehow Dean hadn’t anticipated his voice to be that deep.

“Yes,” he choked out. “Dean.” He held out a hand for the professor to grab.

“Castiel.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dean hoped his voice wasn’t sounding too off. Castiel made a gesture for Dean to sit opposite of him. That close to the man, Dean could scent him over the other guests. Thankfully it wasn’t overpowering, just enough that Dean knew that Castiel was indeed an alpha. Scents from students mingled with the bitter notes from coffee and sweet from the cookies. 

“The pleasure is mine,” Castiel replied. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering us coffee. I thought we might talk for a bit, and to be frank, I could really use the caffeine. Since I don’t know how you prefer yours, I ordered one black with milk and sugar on the side for you.”

Dean nodded. “Sounds awesome.”

Close up, Castiel’s eyes were way more remarkable than his birds-nest of hair. Dean was surprised that he did not find him repulsive to look at, his features mostly symmetric in a way that made him look both handsome and kind. At the same time Dean had no doubt that he could look very stern and professorial if he wanted to do so. Licking his lips, he figured he may just as well start the conversation they’d both met at the café to have.

“So, Sam tells me that you’re looking for a place to live?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Castiel agreed. “I live with my brother, Gabriel, and as much as I love him he can be bothersome at times. We are quite different people.”

“And what makes you think living with someone else would be better?” asked Dean, not sure what else to say. It sounded more accusing that he had wanted it to, but Castiel didn’t seem to take it to heart.

“Well, I doubt you can be more of a slob than he is, first of all. He likes to throw random parties at weird times, seemingly forgetting that I must get up for work in the morning and cannot just use a pair of earplugs as I need an alarm to wake me. From what Sam has told me, you seem to be the type to have something other than candy and biscuits in the house. For some reason anything healthy I buy seems to disappear just like that.” Castiel explained. “Again, don’t get me wrong, he is my brother and I love him dearly. I would just really appreciate someone who does not throw a randy 3-day-party during the weekdays or eat my greens just to insist that they aren’t food.”

“But enough about me, what do you seek in a roommate?” Castiel continued with a smile.

Dean swallowed, not sure what to answer. The waitress came by in the same moment with their coffee, asking them if there was anything else they wanted. Both men shook their heads.

“I dunno, to be honest. I used to live with Sam, but he wanted to be closer to his friends and the campus, so he moved once he had a part-time job paying well enough to afford it. I guess… I guess I miss the company on weeknights, you know? Someone to make dinner for whenever I feel like cooking. It’s boring to just cook for me and myself.” Dean shrugged, not sure what else to say. “And someone to take the dishes when I’ve cooked, I really miss that too.”

Castiel smiled at him. Dean thought it looked understanding. 

“I apparently turn into a boring hermit if left alone, if you are to believe Gabriel.”

Dean laughed at that. It wasn’t hard to imagine Castiel buried so hard in a book that he forgot to leave the apartment.

 

As it turned out, Dean hadn’t needed to work himself up about meeting Castiel. The guy was cool, albeit a bit strange. Castiel had been nothing but nice and respectful throughout their entire meeting, and they agreed that he should stop by during the weekend to see the apartment. After all, he’d need a bit of space to accommodate his books (Dean wondered exactly how many books he had), a decent-sized desk, bed and closet. The room he planned to rent out would hopefully be big enough. If not, he had a small office Castiel could have as well. Dean never used it anyway.

 

Sam called in the evening, asking how things had gone at the café with Castiel.

“He seems nice, Sammy,” Dean said, grabbing another beer as he moved out to the balcon for a cigarette. 

_ “It’s Sam.” _ Dean could almost hear his little brother rolling eyes over the phone.

“Yeah yeah. Anyway, he is coming over this weekend to check out the place. Don’t know why he wouldn’t want somewhere closer to campus, but he did say something about a car. So, I suppose distance doesn’t matter.”

_ “I’m glad, Dean.” _ Sam said, voice almost fond.  _ “I think it could be good for you to have some company during the weekdays.” _

“Whatever. See you later, bitch,” he replied.

_ “Jerk.” _

Dean hung up, sighing. Sam worried too much when there was nothing to worry about. Sure, he wasn’t all that fond of cooking just for himself or eating alone, but he was human and humans weren’t meant to be alone as much as he was outside of work. Nothing wrong with that, really.

Instead of thinking, he sent Castiel a message with the address, asking what time (after ten) he would prefer seeing the place.

Dean emptied the beer before cranking up the music to clean the apartment thoroughly. While being pretty neat, he sometimes forgot socks in random places and crusty old underwear always had a habit of showing up at bad times. And the apartment needed it anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just let ya all know that Dean is shit at dealing with his emotions but you knew that already I suppose

Castiel seeing the apartment went smoothly. The professor still gave off a vibe of calm, collected and awkward. In the apartment, the scent of rain and the calm after a thunderstorm became obvious. Dean didn’t mind it. He could tell Castiel sometimes thought hard about what to say, struggled with his reactions in situations. It seemed like he tried hard to not be awkward, and Dean could appreciate it. He’d been surprised that the dark-haired alpha hadn’t set him off.  His scent was gentle, non-invasive and Dean found himself enjoying it. Many alphas struck him as too powerful, musky and heavy in their scent, something that tended to make him want to run away. With Castiel there was no aggressive posturing, nothing he did made that Dean feel like he was worth less.

Then again, Castiel had no idea Dean was an omega. Probably didn’t suspect a thing.

Sam knew Dean preferred not to disclose that and hadn’t told Castiel beforehand. Sam knew his designation, his boss knew because of insurance shit and his doctor knew. That was about enough people, in Dean’s mind.

Castiel didn’t seem to be the type to expect Dean (or any omega for that matter) to be a delicate flower, unable to handle himself, nor did he seem the type to think that a male omega would be the perfect trophy. But Dean didn’t know him very well, and just because Castiel didn’t  _ seem _ like the type… well, Dean had learned the hard way that he couldn’t always trust people’s looks on that one. So maybe there were a few more people who knew what he was, but he’d made sure as hell to leave them behind. 

It was just.. Dean had been so used to people judging him because of it, making him feel like less of a human because his reproductive organs weren’t like most peoples. At some point after getting his suppressants he had just figured it would be easier to hide his nature than to keep sticking up for himself and fighting people about it.

His father had resented him for it. Omegas where alright in his world, as long as they were female and not his eldest son.

It had torn the family apart that Dean had presented as he had.

 

Castiel liked the room, and when Dean told him he didn’t mind sharing the office, the professor had been over the moon, agreeing that with another shelf there would likely be enough space for his books.

Dean was once again left to wonder exactly how many books Castiel owned, given that the bedroom was big enough that there could easily fit in a big IKEA bookcase.

A lot, was likely the answer.

He would see for himself when Castiel moved in the following weekend. They agreed on a month’s trial-time where both could stop the agreement with a day’s warning if it didn’t work for whatever reason. If everything went well, they would sign the lease at the beginning of May.

To say Dean was nervous about a stranger moving into his space was an understatement.

 

“I haven’t brought all my books. I figured that if this doesn’t work out, there is no reason carrying them all up and down more than necessary,” Castiel said after he had carried moving-box number three over the doorstep.

“Of course not,” agreed Dean, lamp in hand, certain that Castiel owned a small library. The amount he had brought already was more than enough to fill up the guest room.

Castiel’s stuff fit perfectly in the room and in just a few hours, it went from a room Dean had barely used since Sam moved out and into something warm and homey.

“Old books have more soul. I get how not everyone appreciate it, but I find myself enjoying the smell they carry as well,” Castiel said with a fond smile, book in his hand. 

Dean would probably never agree out loud, but it turned out that he too quite liked the smell of Castiel’s well-loved books. They had more soul, stories to tell about the hands that had carried them. Or so Castiel said anyway.

Dean wondered if someone thinking about books the way Castiel did could possibly turn out to be a sexist asshole. He hoped not.

 

Sam had offered to help as well, but Dean had turned him down, wanting to get to know Castiel better. No better way to get to know people than carrying heavy things and trying to make things work together. At the least there was no Ikea-furniture to be assembled. He had a feeling their budding friendship was not ready for that. If any relationship ever were.

“I’ll pay for the pizza. As a thank you, you know. For the heavy lifting,” Cas had said when Dean ordered two meat lovers and a side of fries.

Dean had shrugged, popping the cap of his beer, savoring the cold liquid running down his throat.

Maybe having a roommate was exactly what he needed.

 

…

 

Castiel turned out to be even less of a morning person than Dean was. Dean suspected that the use of coffee would more than double since the alpha tended to down at the least two or three cups before looking awake enough to hold a simple conversation.

It was hilarious, really, how mornings turned the otherwise intelligent and warm man into a non-verbal Neanderthal, unable to grumble more than two words.  

Day three Dean already knew that the best tactic was to start the coffee machine when he hard Castiel’s alarm go off. The day before the alpha had stumbled out of his room, looking like someone had offending him badly. He’d then proceeded to attack the coffee machine while sounding grumbling unintelligently until Dean told him to sit down and wait while he made the coffee. 

However, Dean was more aware than ever of how he acted, how he smelled, even inside his own home. Whenever he showered he practically bolted for his own room, hurrying to put on the scent-blocking deodorant along with a neutral beta-perfume to mask any trace of scent the deodorant and suppressants didn’t cover. While Castiel wasn’t bad company by any means, he was still a stranger, still invading Dean’s space no matter how much he tried not to.

Castiel respected the boundaries Dean set, didn’t pry and didn’t ask probing questions though Dean sometimes caught him staring like he wondered why Dean was acting so strangely at times. Dean was grateful, but also very aware that he had to find away to relax around Castiel, or ask him to move out. The last one seemed unfair, since Castiel wasn’t the problem. If anything, the alpha took Dean’s weirdness a lot better than Dean suspected he would have if things were the other way around.

He also didn’t comment that Dean was smoking which he appreciated a lot.

 

“Dean, are you alright?” Castiel’s voice was soft, interrupting Dean’s thoughts gently.

“Yeah,” he nodded, not entirely sure.

“You just seemed really far away for a moment.”

“Mhm. I was just lost in thoughts,”

“I see,” said Castiel, softer than necessary. Dean wondered when he would start to ask the questions so obviously burning on the tip of his tongue. “If you ever need to get your thoughts out of your head, I’m happy to listen.”

Dean laughed.

“Sure pal. I’m not one for all the touchy-feely-stuff, but if that’s your jam, fine by me.” It came out harsher than he had meant it, but Castiel thankfully didn’t look hurt by it. If anything, he looked concerned, and Dean wondered exactly how much he’d been able to pick up already.

“I have no idea what you mean by that. But there is nothing wrong with needing an outlet for your emotions, Dean, nor is there anything wrong with talking about how you feel. It won’t make you less of a man regardless of what you think about it.” Castiel sighed softly. “And all I’m saying is, that if you feel yourself in need of someone to talk to who isn’t Sam, I don’t mind listening.”

Dean had no idea what to say to that, so instead of answering he simply shrugged. “I’m in need of coffee right now. Want a cup, Cas?”

“Yes please.” Always polite, always nice, even though Dean had just shut down his offer in the most non-caring way possible. Where Castiel was gentle, Dean found himself rough. Maybe Castiel’s people skills where rusty, but his ability to observe and draw terrifyingly precise conclusions wasn’t.

It wasn’t the first time Dean had a feeling that Castiel saw more than most people did. Knew stuff he wasn’t supposed to know.

 

“I don’t do emotions very well,” he reluctantly admitted as he placed the cup of coffee in front of Castiel. He had used a little more time, making the fancy-ass kind with foamed milk and all. A peace offering of a sort. An apology for being an ass.

“I have noticed,” Castiel agreed, grabbing the cup. He hesitated for a moment. “And I truly am sorry if I’ve overstepped some boundaries. I just wanted you to know that the offer to talk is always open. I know we haven’t known each other for long and it might be awkward.” The alpha smiled wryly. “Gabriel has told me I’m too intense sometimes. So I apologize for that.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, not sure what else to say. Maybe he should return the offer? He had no idea what the polite thing was to do. Instead of risking fucking it up further, he decided to leave it there. After all it was their second weekend together, and Dean would rather that they didn’t end up tiptoeing around one another the rest of the day.

Castiel seemed to pick up on Dean’s mood and instead of continuing the conversation, he changed the topic.

Dean was left grateful as well as wondering exactly what Castiel knew, since he had figured out that Dean didn’t do emotions. After all, they had only lived together for a little more than two weeks, and Dean wasn’t that obvious, was he?

Either way, it would be a talk for another time since the alpha had thrown himself into a passionate talk about homegrown spices. 

“The windowsills would be perfect for growing herbs and spices Dean. That way you could always have fresh ingredients on hand when you cook.”

“I don’t know how to keep plants alive,” he argued.

“I have a book on window gardening. I don’t think it’s that hard, not once you get the hang of it,” Cas continued enthusiastically. “Besides, green plants give a better indoor environment.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile. Of course, Castiel had a book on indoor gardening. “Listen, if you’re willing to participate in the responsibility for keeping them alive, I don’t mind growing plants in the window.”

The smile he got when he agreed to it anyway was just about worth any amount of plants Castiel wanted.

“I might bring some more books over next weekend,” Cas told him. “I have a whole box filled with books about plants and gardening”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes in some of the warnings, so be aware.   
> Graphic on-screen panic attack and a lot of self hatred and references to past sexual abuse.

It was late Sunday afternoon. It had been a good weekend, having Castiel hanging around most of the time. Even though it had just been a few weeks, Dean felt like they had known each other for longer than that. Castiel tended to invade his personal space in a physical way, but he never pestered Dean, never pushed him further than he was ready to go. In other words, he was mostly comfortable around Castiel. They guy had yet to say anything hateful against omegas, yet to be any kind of a dick towards  _ anyone _ really, but he still wasn’t ready to reveal that he was one of the few men capable of carrying children. Dean had met more than his fair share of people looking at him like he was some kind of freak. 

He wasn’t sure he was ready to see the look of either disgust or interest on Castiel’s face. Didn’t want him to look like dad back when Dean had first presented.

Maybe he would never be.

But he couldn’t help but feel that he was being unfair towards Castiel. Castiel had treated him with patience and kindness that Dean hadn’t anticipated, didn’t deserve. And he repaid said kindness with secrets, assuming that Castiel would act like an alpha asshole, judge Dean for how he was born. Nothing he’d said or done suggested that he would think less of Dean, nothing suggested he would even care about it. 

Sure Castiel wasn’t entitled to knowing anything about Dean just because they lived together, but he didn’t like having to hide in his own home. His blockers, suppressants and perfume were neatly stacked in his sock drawer, and fuck, if Cas knew he wouldn’t have to stuff it away. It would be easier. 

Unless the alpha reacted as badly as Dean feared. 

Dean swallowed, gazing towards Castiel who was sitting comfortably in an arm-chair, reading one of his strange books. Dean knew the language was English, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to try and pronounce the title, let alone read the thick fucker. It’s spine was easily the size of Harry Potter and Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows combined.

Castiel’s reading glasses kept sliding down his nose and he pushed them up, seemingly without even noticing.

Maybe Dean should tell him. Someone with that much passion about ethics couldn’t be one to react badly, could he? Hadn’t Sam said something about Castiel advocating equal treatment of all secondary genders in his classes? Dean honestly couldn’t remember.

Maybe Castiel would turn out to be the kind of person who did all the right things, said all the right things in public, and then turned out to be an entirely different person at home. Dean had met more of those than he wanted to think about.

Assholes, the whole bunch.

Omegas weren’t supposed to have greasy jobs like Dean did. They weren’t supposed to be as big as most alphas. They should be soft, nice, pliable and pretty.

Dean remembered all too well the talks he had gotten over the years, before he had turned 18 and was medically allowed on the strongest suppressant. He had dealt with his last heat back then and hadn’t bothered to look back. It suited him perfectly fine to not be a slave to his own biology. He’d hated it back then; how even through the scent-blockers alphas seemed to be able to sniff out whenever he neared his heat or had just ended it. To them he’d just been a pretty omega twink. They didn’t care about him being legal, didn’t give a fuck about whether he wanted the nasty comments, the looks, or the so-called caresses.

He’d never asked to be groped in public, never asked for older men to grab him, keeping him steady while whispering things of a sexual nature. He had never asked for a boss who fired him when he took matter in his own hands and slapped a customer who had too wandering hands.

Dean had never asked to present an omega.

 

When Dean looked up, he found Castiel observing him with a steady gaze.

“You are thinking very loudly,” the alpha gently informed him.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize Dean. The offer still stands.”

“I know,” he answered oddly out of breath, wondering what exactly had made Castiel look up in the first place. He was so plastered in blockers that it couldn’t be his scent giving away his train of thoughts.

Maybe he should just get it over with. If Castiel turned out to be a grade A asshole, it was their last week of trial, after that he would be moving in permanently. Then termination of the lease would be a month from either party. That was a damned long time living with someone who either wanted to fuck him or hated him.

At some point, Dean had to tell him. Sure he had hid his stuff well, but it was stressful to be so careful around it. It was only a matter of time before he forgot to apply the blockers. While the suppressants dulled his scent somewhat, an alpha was bound to notice the sweeter undertones of omega no matter what. Even omegas with a hysterectomy or way above their fertile age still had that distinct scent to them.

Dean was just terrified of Castiel’s reaction was all.

After all, wasn’t it better to take the discussion at a time where he was awake and lucid rather than a morning before both needed to leave for work?

His chest felt too tight, like he couldn’t quite get enough air.

Fuck. He had to take the conversation at some point, but maybe, maybe he should wait until it was a point where he was actually able to breathe properly? Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. Hell, maybe Castiel would react like his hookup from the bar that had found the suppressants in his cabinet? He would laugh. Call Dean slurs. Fuck. 

“Dean?” Castiel interrupted his thoughts again. Dean noticed vaguely that he had placed the book on the table and was leaning forward, his glasses dangling at the tip of his nose.

“Dean, you have to breathe!”

“Trying,” he wheezed out, and he really was. His chest was constricted, his airways as if someone had grabbed them and was squeezing. Almost no air passed through. He started coughing. The feeling didn’t disappear.

“Dean, look at me,” Castiel sounded concerned. And closer.

“Look at me, Dean!” he repeated.

“Follow me, alright?”

He managed to nod, the constrictive feeling intensifying around his chest. There was no room for thoughts. He needed air. He just couldn’t remember how to breathe.

Slowly Castiel told him to breathe in, hold it, breathe out. The alpha did it himself, making breaths loud and easy to follow.

How long Castiel spend making him breathe again. It could have been a moment, it could have been hours. All feeling with time had been lost as his body revolted against his mind.

Castiel didn’t yell at Dean. He was patient, didn’t push.

Dean wanted to cry when strong arms gathered him in a hug, until he realized that he already was. The tight feeling of constricting panic had made room for the tears. If he had any energy left, he would’ve left the couch. Hide in his bedroom. Castiel hadn’t asked to see him weak like that. He didn’t need an alpha calming him, he shouldn’t find it so… it shouldn’t make him feel good. Dean should want to hide, he was behaving like John had always said he would. Weak, pathetic, stupid, needy omega. He didn’t need an alpha calming him, he wasn’t a delicate weeping flower, could do on his own. Shame burned with the tears streaming down his cheeks as he stayed where he was.  

It felt like hours before he finally calmed somewhat, that the racked breathing between sobs turned tired and even.

When Castiel stopped hugging him and instead got up from the couch, he was on the verge of panic again.

This would be the straw for the alpha. They’d finally gotten to know one another a little, get comfortable in each other’s spaces. Dean had ruined it like he always did. Cas hadn’t asked for someone he needed to calm like a child.

Dean was a grown ass man. He should be able to breathe on his own. He didn’t “ _ shouldn’t” _ the voice in his head whispered, need someone to make sure he was breathing properly.

When Castiel returned seconds after he’d left, tissues in his hand and a worried look on his face, Dean had no idea what to do. Part of him had been so sure Castiel had been on his way to pack up his stuff. Except he’d walked in the wrong direction, Dean realized.

Castiel hadn’t turned towards his room.

Grateful in a way words never could describe, he got his eyes and runny nose under control. Castiel’s tee had a large wet spot he noticed.

 

“I know you may not be ready to talk about this,” Castiel said, making himself comfortable on the couch beside Dean. “But is this something reoccurring? The panic-attacks?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he admitted, keeping his eyes on Castiel’s knee in lack of better places to look.

“I see.”

“I didn’t plan on it to happen.”

“No, I know Dean. It’s not like it is something you have control over.” Dean could see Cas’ fingers twitch like he wanted to reach out, steady him with physical contact again. He smelled like worry and sympathy. Like he understood, but, how could he?

“I should,” he protested. It wasn’t something anyone would want to watch. No one liked a man crying on them like a kid. No one. He should man up. Do better.

Castiel sighed softly. “I have to disagree with you. Panic attacks are not something you have control over, Dean.”

Dean’s gaze flickered up. He saw nothing contradicting Castiel’s words, nothing making him wonder if the alpha was just putting up a show like he had experienced so often before. Nothing about the blue eyes made Dean think they were hiding lies.

_ Fuck. If panic attacks don’t do it, the truth might just have him run screaming, _ Dean thought as he kept staring at Castiel, kept searching for something that meant he didn’t have to tell.  _ Maybe he is different.  _ Dean hoped so. 

“I’m an omega,” he confessed. As soon as the words were out of his mouth his eyes returned to Castiel’s knee. His heart was beating like it tried to break through his ribcage. He didn’t want to see the compassion and worry turn into disgust or lust.  Didn’t want to see what he had seen so often before. Not with someone he almost considered a friend. Not with someone he had started to care about.

“Oh.” Was all Castiel said.

“Oh?” Dean repeated, risking a quick glance towards the alpha, fear twisting his insides. He was ready to flee if it was needed.

“Out of all the things you could have said, I hadn’t expected that,” Castiel admitted.

“Why not?” he asked. “You must’ve noticed that I’ve been weird about certain things.”

The alpha shrugged. “I didn’t think it had anything to do with your secondary gender. Now that I know it makes perfect sense, but I didn’t even consider it beforehand.”

He kept staring at Castiel, arms crossed defensively over his chest. He kept expecting a blow that didn’t come, kept expecting Castiel to look at him differently. He didn’t, no matter how much Dean kept looking for it.

But Castiel wasn’t his dad. Wasn’t anything like him. 

“Dean, I really couldn’t care less about you being an omega. It doesn’t matter to me,” Castiel interrupted his thoughts.

“It does to me,” he choked out. “Dammit, Cas, I’ve been putting this off to get to know you ‘cause I’ve been so used to people seeing me differently if they found out.”

“Is that why you panicked?”

“Yes,” Dean swallowed.

“Oh Dean,” Castiel softly said, this time reaching out to put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. It felt heavy and warm through the thin fabric of his tee, reassuring. “I’m glad you decided to tell me.”

Dean hesitated for just a moment, a tiny smile fighting its way through. “Yeah, me too.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Wonders if everyone hates chapter 5 since there is not a single comment on it.   
> Me: Realizes several days later that chapter 5 was never posted since I tried doing stuff before coffee. Guess where the inspiration to morning grumpy Cas comes from ya all?
> 
> As a band aid for late posting have an extra chapter today <3 
> 
> Warnings for more hurt and nightmares if you haven't already been warned enough

“You look exhausted, Dean,” Castiel noted one morning while nursing his second cup of coffee.

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep well,” he grumbled down into his cup. It was his third and he was glad Castiel hadn’t said anything earlier. He wouldn’t have been awake enough to register it. 

“I’m not surprised.”

Dean made a noncommittal sound. He was honestly too tired to make actual conversation.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re sleep well,” the alpha continued, like he hadn’t noticed Dean’s ‘I’m tired’ grumble.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You sound like you are having nightmares.”

“You can  _ hear _ that?” Dean asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes. When you are screaming I can,” Castiel admitted, moving on his chair like he was uncomfortable. “I’ve… I’ve wanted to do something about it. Comfort you in some way. But I wasn’t sure if I would overstep boundaries.”

The omega felt himself paling. Sure, he knew he had nightmares, knew he’d wake up crying from time to time, hurting from loss or things that happened years ago that his brain kept taunting him with. He hadn’t known he was screaming in his sleep too. Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him, given how raw his throat sometimes felt when he woke up.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice small.

“Don’t be. I’m just at a loss for what to do when you cry out like that. It’s not easy, listening to someone in that much pain and being unable to do anything about it..”

“I’m sorry for keeping you up at night. Really. If you want to find another place, I won’t blame you.”

“Find another place?” Cas echoed, looking utterly lost. “Are you throwing me out?”

“No, no, not at all. I’m just saying that maybe you would… maybe it’d be better if you lived with someone who didn’t screw up your sleep?” Dean answered hurriedly. It hadn’t been his intention to make it sound like he wanted Castiel out of here. Quite the contrary. He liked the alpha and couldn’t imagine a better roommate.

“Dean, I don’t blame you for it. I’m merely asking if there is anything you will allow me to do when it happens.” Castiel sounded so sincere.

“I’m okay with you trying to wake me up.” Dean shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t matter to him. In reality his nightmares did affect him. A lot. And he didn’t like the thought of anyone seeing him that vulnerable. But Castiel had already seen him crying snot like a kid and he’d been cool about it. He knew about the nightmares and did seem okay with that too, just frustrated that he couldn’t do anything about it.

Dean wished there were more alpha’s like Castiel in the world. It’d be a great improvement if there was.

 

When Castiel woke him up the next night, Dean knew he’d been screaming out in his sleep again. He could still feel the nightmare in his body like a clammy feeling all over his skin, someone twisting his gut and making his breath swallow and sickly.

Even in the dark room, he could tell that Castiel was worried about him. The raw smell of distress from him combined with worry from Cas was a potent cocktail.

“I need some water,” he rasped out, slowly getting out of bed. The cool air in his bedroom chilled his sweaty skin. He craved a cigarette too, but it was too damned cold outside, too damned late.

“Sure,” Castiel agreed. If there’d been enough light Dean knew he would see heavy lines of worry along the alpha’s face, drawing his brows together and mouth down in a frown. He’d looked like that a lot since Dean panicked in front of him the first time around.

Not for the first time, Dean wondered if Castiel would be better off with a more stable roommate. Someone who didn’t disturb his sleep. Someone who didn’t freak out at random times without reason. Someone not Dean.

He shuffled out into the kitchen, feet knowing exactly where to step to avoid hitting the doorframe or the counter even in the dark. The cool water felt like balm going down his throat, soothing the raw flesh.

Castiel was still in his bedroom when he returned, still gave off the scent of worried alpha. He was sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed like he was unsure if he was welcome in there still. Dean had no idea why he cared the way he did. A normal person would be angry that their sleep was disturbed in their own home, but not Cas. Instead he worried about Dean’s well-being.

“Are you alright?” the gravel voice interrupted his thoughts. Cas’ voice sounded even deeper when he’d just been asleep. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go back to sleep in that case. Don’t hesitate to wake me up if… in case you need someone to talk to, alright?”

“Okay,” he agreed. He wouldn’t and he was pretty sure Castiel knew that, too. The offer was appreciated however, greatly so. But there was no way in hell he was going to disturb any more of Cas’ sleep that night.

Once Dean was left alone in his room he turned the light on and grabbed the nearest book. It was already 4 AM. There was no point in going back to sleep for a brief period of restlessness. At best he would fall back asleep and maybe, just maybe, there would be no more death or blood or blame that night. What was a lot more likely was that his mind would pick up where it had left, dragging him through his very own version of hell.

He just wasn’t ready to face that a second time that night.

He really wasn’t.

 

Dean decided to get up when he heard Castiel scramble around in his bedroom. As far as he was concerned, the alpha had yet to learn how to use the coffee-machine and Dean was not about to let him screw it up. Besides, he was already awake and somewhat coherent. He had to get up for work either way, and downing a pot or two of coffee before that happened just sounded like a wonderful idea. While the machine did it’s thing he grabbed a quick smoke. Breathing heavily in he wondered why he hadn’t gotten up in the night for that purpose. 

“Did you get any sleep?” asked Castiel. Dean hadn’t noticed him shuffling into the kitchen.

He shrugged. “A bit.”

Castiel squinted at him. Dean couldn’t blame him if he didn’t believe the lie he’d just been given.

“We can talk after coffee. It’s too early.”

The alpha nodded slowly before yawning. Dean was not the only one in need of caffeine. It was even Castiel’s day to do professor-stuff from home, so strictly speaking he could have slept in. But in the time they had known each other, Dean had learned that Castiel preferred getting up at roughly the same time all days.

Dean licked his lips, staring at the pot of coffee like it held the answers to all his questions. More likely it held the solution to how he was going to manage another day on too little sleep and too much adrenaline.

“Anything you want for breakfast, Cas?”

“Mhmm,” the alpha grumbled. Dean took it as ‘not anything in particular, thanks’

He figured both of them could use the sugar, and since they were up early anyway, he decided on French toast. They were both up early enough that he had the time to make it and enjoy it, and it was warm, sugary and delicious and exactly everything he needed that moment.

 

“What do you dream about?” Castiel asked somewhere between his fourth and fifth piece of toast.

“Huh?”

“Your nightmares, what are they about?”

“Erh,” he answered, torn between telling Castiel to stop the asking-caring-feeling thing and knowing it would be very rude. “Stuff.”

The alpha raised a brow, looking less than impressed with his answer. Dean couldn’t blame him. He did after all sacrifice a lot of sleep to Dean’s nightmares.

“I sometimes dream about making up with my family,” Castiel told him. “I dislike that dream because I know it is never going to happen. I want to see them again, I wish they could accept me and be a part of my life. They won’t and they aren’t. But every time I dream that they call me to make things right and apologize, I wake up and realize that it is never happen, they are not going to be in my life again. And it hurts. Every damned time even though I know better.” The alpha swallowed heavily before stabbing his toast with a determined expression that Dean knew all too well was used to hide the depth of the emotion.

“I dream about blood and gore, mostly. People I love being cut into pieces – mostly by me. I hurt them so badly. It’s like… it’s like my own personal hell,” Dean slowly admitted. Castiel had shared something obviously private and important to him and it only felt right to share something back, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

Castiel nodded slowly, seemingly accepting the explanation Dean had just given him.

 

…

 

Bobby had side-eyed him during his entire shift in the shop. Dean knew he looked like shit and yawned more than humanly possible at work, but he was still doing a decent job. Maybe he could’ve done better if he’d gotten more than three hours of peaceful sleep, but even sleep-deprived he did better than most mechanics could.

A few hours before closing the garage, Bobby sent him home, grumbling something about Dean making him tired. He’d worked long enough at the place to know that arguing with the boss would get him nowhere. Didn’t stop him from trying.

“Bobby, I don’t need to go home.”

“No, sure you don’t, idjit. You’ve been looking like you’re ready to fall over. I’m not gonna let you near another car. Go home, get some sleep. Come back when you’ve slept.” Bobby didn’t look like he was kidding. Dean knew well enough that his boss didn’t send anybody home without reason. Last time it had been Garth puking all over.

“I’m fine, Bobby,” he argued.

“No, you’re not and you haven’t been a while. I might be old, but I’m not stupid.”

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew well enough that one of the few people more stubborn that him was his boss, but that didn’t mean he wanted to give up without a fight.

“Bobby…” He was surprised at how soft the older man’s eyes had turned. “Really, I’m okay.”

“Yeah, and I was born yesterday. You’re going home and you ain’t coming back until you’ve slept enough to not endanger yourself by being at work.” Bobby crossed his arms, eyeing Dean in a way the omega knew all too well. He could argue all he wanted but Bobby wasn’t going to let him touch another car until he actually listened.

Sometimes he wondered if it had been a smart move, continuing where his dad had used to work. But Bobby was practically family, and since Dean only had a GED there weren’t many places he could work. Especially not at the pay level the health-benefits his contract with Bobby offered.

Bobby knew a bit too much about Dean, having known him since he was a big kid. He’d seen the struggles Dean had faced, tried to protect him from John whenever he could. And sometimes that just bled into their professional relationship, and Dean didn’t like that. Had Dean been any other employee, Bobby wouldn’t have sent him home.

Maybe it’d be easier with a boss who didn’t care as long as he did his job.

 

Even after the argument with Bobby, Dean didn’t want to sleep, and tried to keep himself awake no matter how tired he was. He could feel another nightmare boiling under his skin, emotions threatening to spill through. Managing his feelings while awake was one thing, asleep he didn’t stand a chance. He could go long periods without feeling quite alive, but the nightmares always forced him out of his safe bubble of nothing.

If he didn’t sleep he wouldn’t have nightmares, so instead he brewed himself a strong pot of coffee. Cas looked at him odd, but didn’t comment when Dean continued to fill a thermos for taking to his room. He curled up in a corner of the bed with a book and his coffee.

Some time after 1 AM his eyes started to drift shut, no matter how hard he tried to stay awake. The second time the book hit his nose, he figured it was better to stop reading something heavy enough to give him a small concussion if it continued to fall on his face.

Instead of going to sleep he got up, walked into the kitchen and made himself a cup of instant coffee. Compared to the real stuff he was used to, the instant version had a slight taste of sour socks. But it contained caffeine and that was all he needed. It was a tool to stay awake, nothing more.

 

When Castiel shook him awake the clock on the nightstand said 2:30 AM. The pillow was cold and wet under his cheek, eyes burning with tears.

“I’m awake,” he managed. Castiel moved the hand from his shoulder and Dean found himself missing the comforting warmth. It was such a contrast to the images still playing behind his eyeballs, to the sound of his own gasping breath as he fought to get a hold of himself.

“Do you… What did you dream about?” Castiel gently asked. Dean was fairly certain that the alpha had just been about to ask him if he wished to talk about it. He didn’t.

“I dream about my dad,” he answered. “He passed almost a year ago.”

“I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“Yeah, me too. He wasn’t always a great father, but he was my dad.” Dean moved to a more upright position, covering himself with the blanket. He felt cold and exhausted.

“He died protecting me. I owe him my life,” he added slowly. “I saw him die. Again. He’s the reason I’m still here even though I shouldn’t be. I don’t deserve it, Cas. I really don’t. But that day he decided he was better off in front of that truck than I was. They tried to patch him up the best they could. He improved a bit, for a few hours maybe. And then it all went south so fast.”

Castiel stayed quiet in the dark. If it hadn’t been for the sound of his steady breaths, Dean could have sworn he’d left the room.

“You should go back to sleep. Need to be up tomorrow and teaching kids,” mumbled the omega, trying to coax Castiel out of his room to leave him to try and not-sleep again.

“I don’t need much sleep, Dean. I’ve already gotten more than enough,” Castiel assured him softly.

“Would you mind staying for a bit? Just talking?”

Cas nodded, started talking about mindless things. Grading papers, the next assignments his students would have. Dean turned his back to him, let Castiel’s voice float over him, calm his frayed nerves.

 

Dean found himself in a dreamless sleep with Castiel’s voice rumbling around him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for public on-screen panick attacks and dealing with past issues a bit.

As it turned out, one night of sleep didn’t do much to make Bobby want him back under the hood. The older alpha took one good look at Dean and send him right back home. He had no idea what to do with the day. Or the days that followed, for that matter. Sleeping was not on the list, that much was for sure.

Dean opted for a healthy blend of too much coffee and smoking out on the balcony while reading on his phone. When his tired eyes refused to focus, he could zoom in.

Not working didn’t change the severity of his nightmares either. If anything he felt worse, having nothing for his hands to do, nothing to occupy his mind with during the day. It helped a little if he was exhausted to his bones when his head hit the pillow in the evening, but without work Dean had no clue how to get to that point.

It really was no surprise that Castiel once again shook him awake in the middle of the night.

Dean felt sick to his core, the tee soaked with cold sweat clinging to his body like an unwanted layer of cold, dead skin.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “No need to wait up for me.”

“Okay,” agreed Castiel, but the reluctance was easy to hear in his voice. “I hope you get some sleep.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

Bobby didn’t need to send him home on the fourth day. He called in sick, not wanting to face the humiliation of being send home like a naughty kid again.

Castiel was at work, so once they had shared breakfast, Dean dumped himself in front of the television, letting the mindless rumble of “say yes to the dress” kill his thoughts while he downed another cup of coffee.

It was only his third. Nothing wrong with it.

 

At lunchtime he started to feel jittery, in need of something other to do besides alternate between watch programs made for nothing but mediocre entertainment and smoke cigarettes. He was pretty sure that another episode would start killing his brain cells if they hadn’t started to die off already.

He started cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, loud music blasting in the background. It was not like the neighbours were home to get annoyed by the noise. Every floor was vacuumed before being washed. It felt good to get done, since he often put off cleaning. It was great, having something to do with his hands.

It didn’t take up as much time as he’d hoped.

Dean didn’t feel like cooking himself lunch. Instead he opted for another cup of coffee, sitting on the kitchen counter while wondering what else he could do. 

Clean the fridge? Sure, it was overdue anyway. It always was. Since he needed to shop for groceries it was mostly empty. Maybe the cupboards too, now that he was working his way through a proper house-cleaning.

 

Once the kitchen was sparkly clean he felt somewhat satisfied. The lemon-scented cleaner did however tickle his nose in a very annoying way. It smelled a bit too much like him when he was upset and not wearing his blockers. 

The clock told him that Castiel still had another half hour of teaching to do before he would head home, so there was plenty time to buy groceries.

The alpha would be so pleased with a clean house and a filled cupboard. Not that Dean would ever care about that. Pleasing an alpha. It just felt good to do something someone else would appreciate. Sam had always cared a great deal about the healthy food and less about cleaning. - until he had to call Dean to ask how to do laundry two weeks after moving into his own apartment. 

Dean had found it hilarious.

He grabbed the eco-friendly-reusable shopping bags Castiel had installed with his arrival and headed out of the door.

He barely made it into the store before he felt the prickling sensation of being watched. Dean wished he’d brought his headset, so he could’ve shut the world out that way. He usually brought it for shopping trips, found it calming and steadying to listen to familiar music.

When taking a quick glance around, he could find no reason for the hair on his neck to stand up.

Didn’t make the feeling go away.

He’d loaded up with rice, pasta and canned tomatoes when the feeling returned fully. He felt uncomfortable, bile rising in his throat. Someone was watching him, he was certain.

Another glance around revealed a slim man with thinning hair, a greying beard and sickly pale eyes. It could be the light and distance playing a trick on Dean, but he could have sworn the guys nose moved as if he was scenting Dean.

He had remembered his scent blockers, right?

Looking at the guy he was not so sure.

Really uncomfortably not sure.

Instead of dwelling more on it, Dean hurried along, knowing his natural scent would be somewhat disguised by his heavy suppressants. The guy surely couldn’t scent him that far away, could he? It was probably just his mind. Maybe the dude was getting sick and had sniffed at exactly the time Dean had looked at him.

Tomatoes. He needed the fresh kind.

Hurrying along the shelves Dean almost collided with a mom and child. She gave him a death glare as he mumbled off a half-assed excuse.

Tomatoes went in his cart as the sensation returned again, less than before. What else did he need? Cucumbers. He had planned burgers, of course he needed cucumbers. He’d never admit it to Sammy, but rabbit food was good on burgers. Made the taste of meat pop. Added some crunch along with the bacon.

He tried to get his train of incoherent thoughts back on track.

_ Think Dean _ , he told himself,  _ what else do you need? _

But he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t recall what he’d found in the cupboards, what had been missing from the fridge.

He just knew he couldn’t get air.

He knew the store wasn’t crowded. But it felt like everyone was staring at him, judging him for his weakness. He should have been able to control himself, should be able to breath like any other fucking adult.

It was just fucking groceries and he was freaking out.

Trying to breathe in didn’t help, focusing on the redness of belled peppers didn’t. He was dizzy, a sour feeling permeating his body like his blood was turning into acid.

He felt sick.

Dean hurried to the nearest bathroom, leaving his cart just outside. He couldn’t breathe. Not with all the people around.

The wheezing sound of his breath was the only thing disturbing the silence.

He watched as he picked up the phone, wondering weakly in the back of his mind what he was doing when he dialed Castiel.

The alpha picked up on the second ring.

_ “Hello, Dean.” _

“Cas,” he rasped out, trying to explain that he hadn’t meant to call. It’d somehow just happened. The words never came, he just kept wheezing for air. It sounded so sick even in his own ears.

_ “Are you alright?” _

Even over the phone the worry was clear.

“No.”

_ “Alright. You need to breathe. Follow me, alright?” _ Castiel sounded so calm, so collected.

“Yes.”

When he ended the call the numbers on his phone told him he’d been hiding in the bathroom for 40 minutes. He still didn’t feel ready to face the world. His pride had been the only thing stopping him from asking Cas to come get him.

He needed to face the store again. Needed to get the groceries. He could do it. He had to do it. 

Dean didn’t believe in himself. But he wanted to believe in Cas, and Castiel had said he believed in Dean.

Somehow he managed to get through the rest of his shopping without any problems. The store clerk smiled  at him when he paid for his groceries, wishing him a good day. Dean smiled back, a little weary.

“You too,” he got out.

“Thanks,” came the answer with a huge lots of smiles.

How he managed to drive the car back home without an incident he had no idea. Maybe he should’ve called Cas, gotten him to pick him up at the shop. Under other circumstances he would have preferred to wait outside instead of risking damaging his baby – but he really needed to get away from there. Sure he was a lot calmer, but nowhere near calm enough to risk staying.

Not if the man with pale eyes came back around.

For the first time in his life, Dean drove below the speed limit the entire way home. There was no need for him to hurry. Cas was likely waiting for him, likely worrying. But he would rather come back unharmed and late than hurry.

His mouth was filled with the iron taste of blood when he parked the impala. He realized, glancing in the rear view mirror, that he’d bitten his lip to the point of bleeding.

 

The door was open when he tried it with his elbow, hands loaded with groceries. The scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted him as he entered.

“Hey!” he yelled, voice shaky. He hadn’t calmed entirely and a part of him couldn’t help but fear that Cas would judge him for what had happened.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel returned from the kitchen.

They helped one another with loading the groceries into cupboards and fridge in silence. But Dean could tell something was on Castiel’s mind.

“I think we need to talk,” the alpha said. Dean wanted to protest, wanted to tell him that they didn’t need to. That he was fine.

Only he wasn’t.

Instead of lying to himself, lying to Castiel, Dean simply nodded, lips tight. What else could he do?

 

Coffee in hand they sat down opposite of one another by the kitchen table.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, Dean,” Castiel started. “And I cannot in good conscience let this go on any longer. I watch you suffer day after day, and I hate it. I’ve come to care a great deal about you in the time we have been living together, and I cannot stand by and watch any longer. I won’t.”

He took in a deep breath before continuing: “I think you need help, and not the kind of help I can give you, no matter how much I would love to provide it. I can wake you in the night, I can talk you down when we are awake. But I find myself… I’m exhausted, Dean. I want to see you happier than you are now, and all I seem to be able to do is to give you some sort of lifeline when you crash. So please, for me, will you consider it?”

Dean was speechless. What Castiel had just said… somehow Dean hadn’t anticipated the alpha to care so much. His actions the past two months had clearly showed that he cared about Dean, but this was a whole other kind of caring.

He was moved and confused by it, emotions passing through his body faster than he could recognize them. He felt sad, angry, relieved and most of all, overwhelmed. Castiel was overstepping, for the first time, but he did it because he  _ cared _ . Cared about Dean. Wanted him to feel better.

Dean had no idea what to do or say. He just held the cup between his hands, staring at Cas like the alpha was supposed to go on with his speech, tell Dean what to say, how to react.

They just looked at one another while time passed.

“I don’t know what to say, Cas,” he finally admitted. “I manage.”

“You clearly don’t, Dean,” the alpha pointed out, looking at him seriously.

_ I know _ , Dean wanted to admit. He didn’t, instead he swallowed heavily.

“Maybe I’m not alright, okay? But I don’t need a shrink digging around in my brain. Seriously, that shit just creeps me out,” he grumbled, reluctant like a child.

“There are other kinds of therapy,” Cas retorted stubbornly.

“Yeah. No.” He crossed his arms over his chest, defensively. No one needed to mess with his head, not even if the purpose was to make it function better. Dammit, he was doing well enough, everything considered.

_ Even though you can’t manage a simple trip to the store without breaking _ ?  _ Admit it Dean, you’re screwed up, your head is fucked. _ His traitorous brain reminded him.

Dean clenched his jaw.

“Maybe you could then start by talking with someone you know? Sam?”

“Not gonna happen. He doesn’t need to know shit.”

“Then talk with me, Dean. You must know by now that I’m not going to judge you no matter what you say. No one deserves to live like you do. It’s… it’s surviving, not living. There is so much more to life,” Castiel sounded like he was practically begging. Dean wanted to tell him to stick it where the sun didn’t shine, wanted to tell him to shut his cakehole or fuck off.

He didn’t.

“I don’t know, Cas,” he said. “This isn’t exactly easy, you know?”

“I do,” the alpha agreed softly. Dean had a feeling that Castiel just could be the person to understand.

“The thing in the store… it was…” he hesitated, bit his lip, tried to put it off like he could somehow take his words back.

Castiel didn’t need to know everything he had experienced. But maybe telling him a bit wouldn’t hurt, maybe it would make him stop asking.

“There was a guy, an alpha I think. He creeped me out. It just set me off. I started to worry, you know? Had I remembered blockers? Was I looking too much like a docile omega? I thought he scented me, the way he looked at me. I freaked,” Dean swallowed audibly. “And there’s a reason it freaks me out. I haven’t always been treated well. I presented early and there just wasn’t money for suppressants or scent blockers back then. Wasn’t a priority. Dad didn’t believe the amount of trouble I had, being a sexy little omega twink… I learned that alphas generally don’t give a shit if you aren’t legal or consenting.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to keep the story as neutral as possible. Like it was something from a newspaper he was reading out loud, some statistic, not something he’d experienced himself.

“I’ve been groped, touched against my will more times that I want to think about. I told them off, told them I was fourteen. They didn’t care, Cas, not one of them gave a shit about me or what I wanted. Especially close to or just after my heats,” he continued. “I was so scared when Sam told me you where an alpha. A beta or omega, no problem. But a strange alpha in my home? I had to meet you first, even if I trust his judgement.”  _ Sometimes even better than I trust my own _ .

Castiel kept looking at him steadily, but Dean could tell his story was affecting the alpha. His scent had turned somewhat angry, a bitter scent making Dean’s nose itch. He appreciated how Cas kept his attention on him without interrupting.

“I was sleeping over at a friend’s one night. Turned out he’d invited me to crash after the party to take advantage of me. I woke up before it got to more than kisses and touches… I’ve no clue why I even trust you enough to have you here, no idea why I didn’t tell Sam to fuck off with his idea when he suggested it.”

“You did lock your bedroom door the first few nights,” Castiel said, slowly as if things had just started to make sense to him.

“Yeah. I had a feeling that you were a good guy, but I’ve also learned that I tend to believe in the good in people.” And he had learned the hard way that it only got him into trouble, only got his trust broken or his body used.

Cas looked at him sadly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh, so what's a schedule? Forgive me, real life is biting my ass. As you may guess, the inspiration for Dean's struggles are not always from something too far away.  
> But good knews is that my beta, the amazing Adaille, has finished editing so now I just need to look at that and after that I hope to post more often than once a week. 
> 
> Warnings for hurt, hurt and more hurt this chapter. And self hate. Sorry. Dean is going down a really dark place.

Dean felt betrayed. He was hurting all over, sitting in the impala on a small parking lot outside the city.

Bobby had just told him he wasn’t welcome in the garage until he was doing better.

He wasn’t allowed to work. It wasn’t just a day or two sick, not just an hour here or there he missed because the old gruff decided he couldn’t work.

It was permanent.

Bobby didn’t want him there. He probably already had someone ready to take over what Dean was working on, made sure that there was someone so they weren’t falling behind with the work.

Bobby had said they were family.

_ “I’m so sorry kid, but I can’t let you work here until you’re doing better. It’s too dangerous, both for you, the other guys and the customers,” Bobby had said. _

_ Dean had been confused, baffled. Had no idea what to say, so he had just looked at Bobby with a gaping mouth. His eyes hadn’t stung, not yet. He’d been to shocked, too hurt to react. _

_ “You are family, Dean. You’re always welcome here as that. But until you are doing better, until you’re actually able to take care of yourself, you are on sick-leave.” _

_ He had protested. He didn’t have the money to just stay home, didn’t have a mind that could deal with it. _

_ He had begged Bobby not to do it. He had fucking begged. Desperately, hoping the old alpha would change his mind. _

_ Bobby hadn’t. Instead he’d asked Dean to go home, get some sleep. Reminded him again that as soon as he was well, there was a place for him in the garage. And that he shouldn’t worry about the money. _

_ It was a lie. It had to be. _

_ If Bobby cared, he wouldn’t have done something like that. _

He had managed to get into the car and drive off, but instead of going home he’d turned away from the city to get some air, get his head cleared. Tears were prickling behind his eyes. Bobby saw him as a burden too, wanted to get rid of him.

And there was nothing Dean could do about it.

When his vision started to swim he stopped on the side of the road.

Judging from the way his shirt was already damp in the front he had been crying for a while.

 

How long he sat in the car, crying like a child while the music blasted through the speakers, drowning the sound of his wheezy breath, his sobs, he had no idea.

He was hurting all over like he had been hit by a train or a car.

It didn’t feel like he was done crying.

It just felt like his tears had dried out.

Bobby had asked him to leave. Dean knew, rationally, that Bobby couldn’t let him keep coming into work with his mental state as it was. Didn’t mean it hurt less. He hadn’t been himself for a while, sure, he knew that. He knew he hadn’t done quite as well as he’d used to.

Maybe he’d been right when he said it was only a matter of time before something fucking ugly happened because Dean was zoning out or was too tired. Maybe Dean really wasn’t fit for his job anymore.

But if he couldn’t work, what else what he supposed to do?

 

Tears had long dried to crusty stripes along his cheeks when he turned the impala around and drove back into the city. The tight feeling in his chest hadn’t changed. He needed to get home, needed Castiel to tell him things were going to be okay. He didn’t quite know when he had started to depend on the alpha like that. Wasn’t sure what he thought of it.

Of course, Castiel picked up on his mood right away. For once the alpha didn’t ask, didn’t push. Instead he looked at Dean with eyes so filled with sympathy that he felt himself tearing up again.

Castiel’s arms around him felt like the first real thing he had encountered the entire day. It had mostly been like walking around in a bad dream. He had begged that someone would wake him up, tell him that it had all been a nightmare. That he was still the old Dean, still managing and still working like a real grown up.

No one did, and the comforting weight of someone hugging him made him wonder what his life had become. When had it all turned so sour?

 

…

 

In the days that followed, Dean felt like he was barely existing. His mind felt blank, his emotions like they’d been locked down somewhere deep. He could sense the underlying sadness like a bitter tingle on the back of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite feel it. Not anymore.

It was like his mind was revolting against the thought of going through more emotions. The world was duller around him.

He barely managed to get out of bed, let alone brush his teeth or shower. He didn’t even manage to get up for a smoke. It wasn’t that the didn’t want too, but Dean wasn’t able to find the energy to do it.

Not when his nights were a constant reminder that he still had emotions, still hadn’t turned into some kind of machine.

His nightmares turned darker and bloodier as his daytime was spent staring into the wall or hoarding the fridge.

Castiel had taken over most of the practical stuff in the apartment.

Dean simply couldn’t manage it.

He wanted to. He wanted to so badly it almost hurt thinking about it.

No matter what he tried, he simply remained a burden, someone Castiel had to take care off.

His body wouldn’t do what he ordered. He either ate too much or too little. He felt like shit, felt like someone had run him over – physical pain became his reminder that he was still alive. The throbbing in his back when he had been lying too long, forcing him to change his position or get up. The way his stomach would hurt the days he forgot to feed himself when Castiel had left. The way the inside of his cheek stung every time he moved his mouth from his nervous chewing it up.

“Dean, you need to get up,” Castiel said one day, looking exactly as worried as he had looked since the day Bobby had told him not to return to the garage anymore.

“Why?” he asked. Dean knew he sounded like a petulant child.

“You need a shower. You haven’t taken one for three days, and either you do it or I help you,” Cas answered. From anyone else it would have sounded poisonous, like Dean wasn’t doing well enough. But the alpha just sounded sad and worried. Maybe a bit like he was talking to a hurt animal.

Maybe in a way he was, Dean figured.

“I know,” he said, because it was easier than doing anything else. Castiel was right, he did smell like someone had rolled him over in nasty shit. He hadn’t applied his blockers or just something as simple as a deodorant in the three days either.

Somehow, he was baffled that it hadn’t been longer. It had felt like weeks at least had passed.

But he was in dire need of a shower, maybe a shave too.

Even he could tell that.

“Come on Dean, maybe you will feel better afterwards,” Cas prompted.

“Maybe,” he agreed, just to not put more worry on his friend’s face. He didn’t succeed, but Castiel did look just a bit more pleased.

It took what felt like forever to get his legs working enough for him to stumble towards the bathroom. The shower he took was too hot and his shaving ugly and uneven. But he did it.

When he emerged, still damp from the shower, Castiel was one big, goofy smile. Dean could have sworn he had never seen the alpha so happy.

“I’m glad you are taking care of yourself, Dean.”

He almost wanted to protest, wanted to say that he’d only done it to please Castiel, to not upset him further. But he knew it would make the smile diminish, and he didn’t want that to happen.

“I’m going to cook us something. You need to eat something other than frozen pizza or chocolate.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna get dressed.”

Cas nodded a small smile playing around his lips. It looked sad more than anything else.

Dean flapped into his room, movements uncoordinated. He almost stumbled into the doorframe on his way. Almost fell over as he tried to put on the jeans.

Had it really only been three days?

He had no idea, his time spent between being awake and asleep not clear.  Castiel probably knew better than he did.

 

When he emerged into the kitchen, Castiel was cooking something that smelled like omelets and bacon.

“I’ve taken the liberty of plugging in your phone,” he said, back turned towards Dean.

“Oh. Thanks,” he replied, not sure when the device had died. He hadn’t even bothered to look at it.

While Castiel cooked, he decided to check messages. There was, no surprise, quite a few from Sam. A few from Bobby as well, checking in on him, too.

He was weirdly moved by that.

Dean texted back his boss that he was doing alright. That he would be back at work in no time.  _ Take all the time you need, Kid.  _ Came back.

Sam was a whole other department. After three days of radio silence the kid had to be worried. One day wasn’t too unusual — Dean sometimes left the phone in the car, forgetting about it until he was on his way back from work the following day. But three, that was unheard of and he knew it.

Instead of texting, he called his little brother.

Sam picked up after the second ring.

_ “Dean?” _ he sounded so frantic, scared. Exactly like Dean would have felt if it had been Sam who had dropped off, leaving total silence behind.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, heya Sammy.”

For once Sam didn’t complain about the childish nickname.

_ “I’m so glad to hear from you.”  _ The finally went unsaid.

“Sorry. I know I should have called. It was just… I wasn’t in a good place,” he admitted, slowly. Sam knew enough about his struggle with mental health as it was. Dean didn’t feel like worrying his little brother more than necessary.

_ “Yeah, I know.” _

“You know?”

_ “Yes. When I hadn’t heard from you I called Cas. And don’t worry, he didn’t rat you out or anything. Just let me know that you were still alive and that he was worried about you.” _

“Ooh…” Dean replied intelligently.

_ “Anyway, I’m just really happy that you are doing better now.” _

“Me too,” he said, wondering if he really was. Maybe being out of bed and planning on having an actual meal instead of cheesy puffs or chocolate bars counted as better, even if he wasn’t the one to do the cooking.

_ “Can I come over this weekend?” _ Sam interrupted his thoughts.

“Yeah, sure. I don’t have plans. If you bring beer, I’ll cook.”

_ “Deal. See you then.” _

Sam ended the call, probably satisfied that Dean was still alive and doing somewhat close to alright. It wasn’t the truth, but he didn’t care. If it made his little brother worry less, he was more than happy to go along with it.

 

…

 

To say that Dean was doing better over the days that followed would’ve been a lie. It felt like someone had wrapped his mind in a thick blanket, his thoughts going slow and his body not quite reacting the way it usually did.

Castiel mostly had to coax him out of his rooms for meals and showers. Dean couldn’t muster the energy for it, no matter how hard he tried. With Castiel asking him to it felt a little easier to do. There were moments where he felt better, clearer. Where he managed to clean something, maybe do a load of laundry until he once again felt overwhelmed by apathy.

It almost felt like he wasn’t quite alive. Like someone had put a layer of insulation underneath his skin, making it harder for his senses to work right, making him feel off.

Too fast and way, way too slow, Saturday came around and Dean knew Sam would come over soon.

His heart was beating fast in his chest, bile rising in his throat.

He didn’t want his brother to see what a mess he’d become, how codependent he was on Castiel to even feed himself. He somehow had to get himself together, had to make things work. Fuck.

Sam had enough to worry about without Dean throwing himself into the mix.

 

When his brother appeared Dean had somehow managed to clean up somewhat. The apartment looked almost like itself and he didn’t smell like a dead dog anymore.

Sam dragged him into a hug as soon as he was in the door, six-pack bumbling awkwardly against Dean’s back.

“Why aren’t you wearing your blockers?” Sam asked, baffled.

Dean had to sniff himself before looking at his brother. “I suppose I just forgot,” he replied, wearily. Sam didn’t need to know that he hadn’t been out of the house and that showering was something he barely managed.

He had managed to swallow his suppressants. Or so he hoped, anyway.

“Does that mean you’ve told Castiel?”

“About the whole man-with-a-uterus thing? Yeah. I did that a while back.”

Sam nodded. Dean hoped it was clear that Cas had taken things well enough since he was still living in the apartment. 

“I’ll just throw these into the fridge.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, wondering why Castiel hadn’t reminded him to put the blockers on. But it didn’t seem like the alpha had even noticed. 

Dean didn’t know what to make of that.

The lasagna heated in the oven while Sam grabbed glasses and beers for them. Castiel had made it before leaving to visit his brother, giving Dean and Sam time to talk with one another.

It was the first time Dean had Sam visiting where he hadn’t cooked for him himself. He felt weird about it. Not that Sam would ever know the difference, Castiel was a surprisingly good cook unless forced to do it before his third cup of coffee. Dean had seen him boiling eggs without water one morning.

From what he could gather about the brother he’d lived with, there was a reason Cas could cook, though. Gabriel sounded like someone who would prefer lollipops over actual food if given the choice.

 

“So, actual, honest-to-God or whatever, how are you doing Dean?” Sam interrupted his thoughts.

“I’m okay.”

“Bullshit.”

Dean swallowed. It had been worth a try, but of course he’d known that Sam wouldn’t fall for it. Of course he’d figured his little brother was too clever for his own good. Dean just wanted to protect him. Shelter him from the harsh reality that he didn’t want to do anything, that losing his job had just been the last push towards an edge he’d not been aware he was so close to falling off of.

“I could be doing better, I suppose,” he admitted, slowly, watching for Sam’s reaction.

Hair flopped as Sam nodded.

“You know, I just want to see you happy Dean.”

He shrugged. What else was he supposed to do? Happy was for people who deserved it.

“I just want you to stop worrying,” he replied.

“Then get some help. Get better,” retorted Sam. His face was set in serious lines, and Dean knew he would never win that discussion. Sam and Cas should start a club for people wanting him in therapy.

“I don’t want someone to mess around in my head, Sam.”

Dean would love it if Sam’s eyes got stuck in the back of his head when he rolled them like that.

“I think you got a very wrong picture of what therapy can be like.”

“Might be. Still not interested.”

“You can’t keep going like you’ve been so far. Seriously Dean, you’re pushing yourself towards an early grave or something like that! I’m not going to just stand by and watch your mental health deteriorate to a point where it can’t be fixed.”

Dean could feel himself grow annoyed. “It ain’t!” he argued.

“Yeah it is. You don’t just forget to wear blockers, Dean. You’ve applied those fuckers like a clockwork since you were able to buy them! I’d all but forgotten what you actually smell like. This is so unlike you!”

There was truth to that, no matter how much he hated to admit it.

“I’ve watched your weight go up and down like a yoyo since dad died. I’ve seen how unhealthy you look, watched the smoking and the empty bottles of liquor appear in the trash no matter how hard you’ve tried hiding it,” Sam pointed out.

For a moment Dean had no words. He had always tried so hard to hide it. Sure Sam had known that he’d picked up smoking after dad died (and mostly quit it again) but Dean didn’t think that his brother had ever noticed the ridiculous amount of nicotine he had inhaled each day. He’d been the one doing the groceries, had tried hiding the bottles in the bottom of the bag whenever he had been forced to buy those when Sam was home.

He’d thought he succeeded in protecting his brother.

He’d failed.

Sam had known all along.

He’d never been supposed to know.

Dean stared at him, wide-eyed and terrified that Sam would get up, get out, like any sane person would do.

“I know it was selfish to move out, but I couldn’t help you like that. It drove me insane,” Sam’s voice was shaking, eyes flickering. “I wanted to do something so badly, Dean. It was dragging me down too, bad enough that it started to affect my grades. And every time I tried confronting you, you got so mad. I didn’t know what else to do.” Sam’s voice was breaking, and when Dean finally lifted his gaze he could see hazel eyes swimming in tears.

He’d no idea he had hurt his brother so badly. No idea.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Sammy,” he managed to get out. His voice was breaking with it, he’d never meant to make Sam’s life that much more difficult.

“I know you are. But dammit Dean, get some help. I hate seeing you like this. It rips me in pieces. I really thought Castiel moving in was going to help, I hoped that maybe having a stranger would confront you with your coping mechanism?”

“I’ve been drinking less,” he slowly said. He’d also not smoked as much, knowing that Castiel couldn’t stand the stench of it. Mostly when work was stressful or if he was alone at home and could muster the energy for it.

“Good.” Sam crossed his arms. His jaw moved as if he were chewing on the inside of his cheek to fight back the tears.

Dean suspected that he looked about the same.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know. I know you did your best to hide everything. But that hurts too, Dean. I always just wanted to help you and you’ve shut me out.”

Dean wanted to say he was sorry, he wanted to apologize so badly his inside was hurting with it. But it wouldn’t change anything between them. Sam had still taken care of him in ways he should never have done. But saying he was sorry wouldn’t change anything and it wasn’t what Sam wanted him to say anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya all is still with me. I promise there will be destiel fluff, but Dean is being very, very stubborn in this story -.-

Sam’s visit had triggered something in him. It wasn’t an instant change that he wanted to do better, but little by little he did anyway. If anything his baby brother deserved more than to see him dig that hole deeper and deeper.

At first it was something as simple as getting up at the same time as Castiel did. That hadn’t happened since Bobby had sent him home on sick leave.

They enjoyed coffee and breakfast in friendly silence, relaxing in each other’s company. Dean had to admit that it was a lot nicer than lying in bed all day.

He then continued his morning routine with a shower. Castiel still took are of all the practical stuff outside the house, but Dean slowly became the one writing up the grocery list.

Cas had asked him not to take on too many tasks until he felt better, so he tried not to. Once in a while he cooked dinner, but mostly he just sat on the counter while Cas did the work, listening to the alpha talk about his work or his books or whatever was on his mind. Dean didn’t have a whole lot new to talk about.

It wasn’t until payday that Dean realized that Bobby had indeed meant it when he said Dean was family. The old gruff had paid him, even though Dean hadn’t put a foot in the garage the past three weeks. It wasn’t as much as he was used to, often working overtime or putting hours down during the weekends, but it covered his part of the bills. It was more than he deserved.

 

“You seem better,” Castiel commented way too casually over mac and cheese. Apparently the alpha had never tried anything but the out-of-a-box kind and Dean had insisted on cooking it from scratch.

Dean shrugged. “Sometimes I think I am.”

“Do you want to go shopping with me tomorrow in that case?”

“Naw man,” he replied, feeling the all too familiar constriction of his chest. It happened every time Castiel suggested he got out in public. Dean didn’t quite know why, but he hated the feeling, hated how he couldn’t even do such a simple thing.

“Still not feeling it?” Castiel tilted his head, eyes squinting as if he was trying to read Dean like he would read the difficult part of a book.

He hesitated before shrugging again. “It just seems like a bad idea, is all.”

“I’ll be there the whole time, Dean.” The tone was gentle and soft. Dean had to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“I know. It’s just, I really, really think it is a bad idea.”

And like always, Castiel withdrew with a soft ‘okay’ like he completely understood Dean and didn’t blame him one bit. Dean never got around to understanding why Castiel didn’t yell at him in frustration, why he didn’t just force him out of the door. Get him admitted to a mental health facility.

 

Dean woke up screaming again that night. For once Castiel wasn’t there with a calming hand on his shoulder or strong arms wrapping around Dean. He’d always been there when Dean woke up, shaking him awake from the nightmares with a gentle hand.

It terrified him. He was all alone.

The door creaked, light slipping in along with the calming scent of alpha, of home, of family.

The bed dipped a under the extra weight.

“What do you dream about, Dean?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean whimpered, words unable to form in his mouth. There was not enough oxygen for him to speak out loud. He wanted to tell Cas, in that moment he really did, but he couldn’t.

Warm arms wrapped around him. The soft rumble of the alpha’s voice filled the room. Dean had no idea what he was saying or talking about, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he wasn’t alone, that Castiel hadn’t given up on him.

Hours could have passed before he started mumbling against Castiel’s chest, scared that the courage to talk would leave him if he moved.

“I dream about dad,” he started. “Dunno if you remember, but… He passed about a year ago. At first I was doing okay, but now I’m, as you can tell, I’m really not. He died protecting me, I should have been the one to die. Sometimes he comes back to tell me that. Sometimes he tries to kill me. Tonight I just talked to him. We just talked. I was so mad, because he left, you know? He didn’t give me the option to die, he took it from me and now he haunts me. I asked him why he’d done it, why he saved me. He said he didn’t know, he told me that someone like me doesn’t deserve what I have. That I should stop being such a girl, that I should man up. And I miss him Cas, I miss him so damned badly. And all he does is yell at me, you know? I just wanted him to be proud of me. And I know he would hate seeing me like this.”

Dean was aware that his words didn’t make much sense. He was too tired to care, too exhausted to elaborate.

“Mhmm,” Castiel agreed, slowly moving a hand up and down Dean’s back.

“I just want to talk to him. Ask him what he expects of me so I can get some peace.”

“I know.”

“I want this to stop. I’m so goddamned tired. I want to  _ sleep _ for once,” he cried out, holding Castiel closer.

His dad wouldn’t have liked seeing him cling to an alpha like that, Dean knew.

He felt it as Castiel swallowed heavily. Dean understood what he wanted to say, that he wanted to ask Dean to get help. At that moment he would have been ready to agree to whatever Cas wanted if it meant that the alpha stayed with his arms around him, providing a feeling of security.

But Cas didn’t say anything nor did Dean. Instead they just held on to one another until Dean’s breathing got less racked and his scent shifted from upset and terrified to exhausted.

Castiel stayed a little after that, kept his arms around Dean, kept him safe for just the moment.

Dean could scent how unsure he was about it when he finally loosened his grip, mumbling a soft ‘good night, Dean’.

And part of him wanted to ask him to stay.

But he didn’t. Instead he watched as the door opened and the light disappeared along with Castiel.

Something tugged in him, made his airways close just a bit.

He was probably just tired. It was after 3 am anyway.

 

Castiel looked as exhausted as Dean felt when both stumbled out the next morning. Dean had tried to go back to sleep but had ended up reading instead, unable to make his brain stop going around. He’d gone out for a cigarette every time he started to doze off. It had kept him awake and away from the nightmares. 

The alpha looked him over with a sad smile before beelining to the coffee-machine, putting on a full pot of coffee. Dean couldn’t agree more that it was needed.

“You can’t go on like this, Dean,” Castiel said, surprising the omega by talking before his first cup of coffee.

He swallowed heavily, grabbing the cup Castiel had just poured him and adding a generous amount of milk, even though he usually drank it black in the morning.

“I know,” he answered. It sounded broken even in his own ears.

Cas looked at him strangely, like he hadn’t expected Dean to agree – but what else could he do? He dragged Sam down and destroyed Castiel’s sleep. If he wasn’t ready to get help for himself, he sure could do it for the people he cared about.

Dean sipped his still too hot coffee, not caring that it burned his tongue as it went down.

He wanted something stronger if he had to be perfectly honest.

“I just can’t seem to figure out where to start. I’ve googled a bit, and there are so many options, so many opinions. I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong or who to trust on the matter. Some say meds are the way to go, and some hate them and say you turn into somebody else on them. Some say that therapy is the shit, other criticize that. It’s overwhelming.”

“It is,” Castiel agreed, slender fingers wrapped around his own mug. He looked thoughtfully into the air. “My experience is that you have to figure out what works for you. Maybe someone says that meds are shit, but if they make you functional, enable you to work through your problems, then what’s problem?” The alpha shrugged. It sounded so reasonable, said like that.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Dean. But I do know an excellent therapist whom I think you would like a lot.” There was something fond in his tone.

“Why the heck not give it a try?” Dean found himself saying. His heart was beating faster with the thought. But he had to do something. Had to try.

Cas nodded. “I’ll write to her and ask for an appointment for you, then.”

Dean was grateful. He knew he should be enough off a man to text his maybe-to-be therapist himself, but having Castiel take care of it, knowing that there was one less thing to deal with made him relax somewhat. He’d never liked texting strangers.

 

Dean felt alone when Castiel left for work. The apartment just felt larger when the alpha wasn’t around. He missed working. Missed having a purpose to get up and about for. He could do their grocery shopping, but something about it still made him feel terrified.  

Maybe it was the thought about meeting the pale-eyed alpha again. Dean wasn’t too sure that just one man could make him feel so anxious, but it had gone bad around there. Maybe the guy had reminded him off someone he’d long forgotten. He didn’t know. Didn’t want to know either.

It was one of those okay days where Dean felt a bit better. He still felt alone when Castiel had left for work. After a bit (a lot) of hesitation, Dean texted Sam that Cas had hooked him up with a therapist. 

Sam sent back that he was proud.

Dean shouldn’t be tearing up about something like that, but he was. Sam had nothing to be proud of. Castiel was the one doing the work, pushing Dean. He did nothing but let the alpha make decisions for him. For a moment he debated sending a text saying that back to Sam, but he decided against it.

_ Thx  _ he wrote instead.

 

Since it was one of those okay days, he managed lunch and doing laundry. It shouldn’t feel like a huge thing, but it was. Knowing that he could do better than he’d done before made him feel something, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

Dean was looking forward to Castiel coming home and not having to drag him out of bed. Sure he was lounging on the sofa, but that was progress too.

He liked having Castiel around.

He liked Castiel.

The thought hit him like a train out of the blue. Was that what it was all about? The looking forward to having the alpha back home in the evening? Did he actually  _ like _ him?

Dean looked at his hands in horror like they had somehow betrayed him, like they were behind his emotions.

Did he like Castiel? Like, like him?

It wasn’t something he felt entirely sure about. He did enjoy Cas’ company, did enjoy his cooking and found most of his strange ways kind of endearing.

Did that mean he like-liked Cas?

He frowned. Maybe it was just a friend thing. After all, his friendships outside of work had always been quite limited. It could be completely normal to want someone back home and to like their scent on a friendly basis.

Dean didn’t have enough to compare to, so he did what any reasonable omega would do, and started searching the internet.

As far as he could tell nothing about how he felt necessarily differed from a friendship.

Strictly speaking the internet did also suggest it could very well mean he had grown to feel more than friendship for Cas, but he chose to ignore the sites stating such.

Dean Winchester wasn’t going to fall for an alpha. Ever. It was about as likely to happen as mount Everest crumbling into pieces and turning into a flat field. Or the moon suddenly changing orbit. He wasn’t one of those omega bitches, that was for sure. Never would be either. Meaning the way he felt was, like the internet suggested, quite normal for a close friendship.

Satisfied that he had an explanation to his newest revelation, he slumped back on the sofa, relaxing entirely. He didn’t have to worry, didn’t have to think more of it.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean had lost count of how many times Castiel had shaken him gently awake in the night, but it happened too often. He was also pretty sure it wasn’t a new night, and that it indeed was the third time the alpha sat down in the bed, the bags under his eyes prominent even in the limited light seeping through the door.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he whimpered, too tired to care about sounding pathetic.  

“I know,” the alpha answered, his voice a calming rumble. “I am, too.”

Dean didn’t understand why Castiel felt sorry, he was busy inhaling the calming scent of summer after the rain, of home. He wasn’t clinging to Cas, nor scenting him. His actions were perfectly normal.

Castiel’s fingers ran down his spine and back up in a calming motion.

“I’m so tired.”

He could feel Cas nodding.

“Stay?” his voice was so low that he wasn’t sure the alpha had heard him, but when he felt Castiel stiffen under his arms, he knew he had.

“If that’s what you need, Dean.”

He didn’t bother answering; instead, he dragged Castiel down with him, mumbling incoherently to make him lie on his back. Dean needed a living and good-smelling pillow, and Cas seemed like the best option around. Hopefully having someone there would keep the nightmares at bay. It was worth a try.

 

Dean was confused at first when he woke up. He was snuggled against something very much not his pillow, something warm and softly snoring.

It took him a good few minutes to remember that Castiel had agreed to spend the night in his bed. Maybe he should have been repulsed by waking up in bed with an alpha, but he just felt warm. And content.

Cas had turned out to be a great pillow and an even better dream catcher.

Dean was almost tempted to snuggle closer into Castiel and snooze for another hour or two, but his morning wood situation would make that just a bit awkward.

He opted for a cold shower instead.

 

Cas stumbled out of Dean’s bedroom at about the same time as the coffee maker announced that the coffee was done with a small ping.

They went on with their morning like they usually would.

It was almost as if nothing had changed between them.

…

Castiel took him to see the therapist later that week. Dean hadn’t felt ready for it at all, and he’d suffered through more nightmares than usual. It left him grumpy and tired when they drove off in Castiel’s tiny ugly excuse of a car.

Maybe he had pictured a therapist to be someone  _ old _ or someone less filled with energy and excitement. What he met wasn’t the mental image he had, that was for sure. 

The female in front of him, shaking his hand, was short and with flaming red hair. She gave off a dulled scent of omega, something Dean found warm and calming.

Maybe he had simply imagined her to be more intimidating. After all, she’d agreed to mess around with his brain, to poke everything ugly inside of him. It seemed almost impossible that someone friendly could do that.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Castiel said. 

Dean nodded at him, lips tight, unsure what else to do or say. It wasn’t like Cas could or would stay for it. It would be awkward enough as it was. He didn’t need witnesses.

But he’d promised Dean to be there afterwards, to pick him up and get him home so he didn’t have to leave the so called safe space of Charlie’s office alone.

“Come on, follow me,” Charlie smiled at him, and what could Dean do but follow her? She wasn’t intimidating, there was nothing about her setting off his alarms. If anything went south, he was pretty sure he could easily overpower her.

He frowned at his own thoughts. There would be no need to overpower anyone. She was a licensed therapist, for crying out loud.

 

“So, tell me a bit about yourself,” she started the session.

He shrugged, unsure of himself. He’d expected the question, but still didn’t have a clue of what to answer. “Name’s Dean.” 

Charlie just smiled at him, encouragingly.

At first the words had a hard time coming, they didn’t flow like he was used to them doing in a normal conversation. It grew easier as the conversation progressed, as Charlie learned more about him, learned what to ask when. He could tell that she didn’t always know, not yet, the curious cock of her head not always leading to a question.

He suspected those questions would be the topic for another session.

Much to his surprise, she never took out a notepad like he’d seen in the movies. But then again, he wasn’t lying on his back, waving his arms around as he told her what was going on.

“At this point, I just don’t know anymore, Charlie. It seems like I’ve lost my purpose. Once, it was  a happy childhood for Sammy, making sure he was fed and clothed and could go to school. I took care of dad as well, ‘course I did, but it wasn’t quite the same. Thing is, Sam doesn’t need me anymore,” he swallowed around the words. The later years, it had been him needing to take care of Sam more than it had been Sam needing him to take care of him.

“And when Bobby said it was too dangerous to have me working when I’m the way I am, I just… I don’t know, things just went pretty sour from there, I suppose. More nightmares, episodes of just,” he frowned, trying to figure out the right words, “depression, I suppose? Complete apathy. I couldn’t even manage showers after he sent me on leave. I haven’t felt like doing anything, haven’t been eating properly and haven’t really managed even the most basic stuff. And I want to do it, it’s just like my body and brain don’t quite talk to each other the way they used to do?”

Charlie was a patient listener as Dean tried to explain how he’d felt the past few weeks.

He paid her a pretty decent amount to be so, he supposed.

 

When he left her office along with Castiel an hour later, he was drained. They had nipped the surface, barely covering anything besides superficial tidbits about his family history and how things had been going and the few things that had seemed to trigger his mood swings, and still he felt like going home and sleep for a week.

“I feel like someone just ran me over with a train,” Dean complained as Castiel drove them home.

“I know. That’s why I’m behind the wheel,” Cas agreed, eyes trained on the road. He was a good driver but didn’t quite relax when driving. “Therapy is exhausting for both body and mind.”

“Mhhm,” he agreed tiredly, sinking into the seat. “How do you know?”

“My family and I have had quite a lot off falling out. I’m disowned by most of them. It required quite a lot of therapy for me to be able to break with them and a lot to get me back on track afterwards. I don’t regret it, but it wasn’t an easy decision.”

Dean nodded. He wanted to ask Castiel more about what had happened, what the reason for the disowning was, but he also knew not to push the alpha too much.

“You still have contact with Gabriel, though.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, mouth a thin line. “But he’s also the only one who’s not a bigoted idiot out of the bunch.”

“Bigoted?” repeated Dean.

“Yes. I generally prefer being with men. I don’t care much about secondary genders. My mother especially always wanted me to settle with a sweet omega girl. And while I have dated ladies, none have ever been omegas,” Castiel elaborated, eyes locked on the road. “I brought home an alpha girl once, mother was not satisfied. Meg wasn’t exactly sweet or docile. I dated her a while until we ended up agreeing that our relationship was more an arrangement to piss off my parents and let her date whoever she wanted, using me as an excuse. It took me a bit after that to realize that I’m mostly attracted to men. I told mother and my brothers, came out of the closet if you will. They didn’t take it well.”

Castiel sighed, And Dean watched his jaw move in unresolved anger, his lips tighten in annoyance.

“They tried to set me up with sweet and appropriate girls,” he added bitterly. “And I played along.”

“Douchebags.”

“Assbutts,” agreed Cas. “But I got tired after a while of playing their game, pretending to be something I was not. I told mother so. She didn’t take it well, and I moved out. Haven’t talked to anyone in my family besides Gabriel the past 10 years or just about so.”

“I always thought alphas were supposed to have it easy,” Dean mumbled, tearing his eyes from Castiel. They had lingered for too long, following the curves and planes.

“How so?”

“Dad used to tell me I would present an alpha like him. Be big and strong, you know? Protect Sammy. All that shit.” He swallowed down the lump. Everything felt raw. “I never thought I even could present omega. Male omegas are rare in the first place, and I just figured it wasn’t an option. Of course I’d be an alpha like my dad. I was tall and had put on quite a lot of muscle mass over the summer working outdoors.”

Dean looked out the side window for a moment, not risking meeting Castiel’s eyes. Sam knew bits and pieces from the fights between Dean and his father, but he’d never gotten the full story. Dean hadn’t wanted to destroy what little respect Sam had for their father.

“I’ve never seen anyone so disgusted with me as he was when I started my heat. I thought I was getting sick. I felt so odd before the fever kicked in, asked dad to buy me some aspirin and when he came home everything had just, you know, started? I tried to cool off in the shower waiting for him, and he just… he stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me like I had just shattered his world.” He shrugged, and kept his eyes out the window. “He locked me inside my room and refused to let me out until my heat was over. I would stink up the entire place, he said. I was so sick from it. I thought it would end up killing me. No one had told me what to expect or explained how to relieve some of the pain. I was twelve.”

“So, you know, I figured alphas would have it easier. They don’t have to hide their scent, they aren’t treated like second class citizens. I figured your family would be proud of you, no matter what. Because anything I ever did wrong was blamed on me being an omega.” Dean licked his lips, finally looking at Castiel. The alpha still had his eyes on the road but did look wondering.

“I had no idea it was that bad, being an omega,” he said slowly.

“Not sure it is if you’re female. They are common enough. I’m a freak.”

“Please don’t talk about yourself that way.” Castiel asked, expression somewhere between worried and angry. Dean didn’t get where either was coming from. 

“It is true, though,” Dean sighed softly. The car slowed down as Castiel maneuvered it into the parking spot with ease.

Once inside the apartment Castiel dragged him into another warm hug, mumbling something about being proud because Dean had taken steps towards getting better.

Dean chose not to answer, instead he simply enjoyed the relaxing feeling of Castiel’s arms surrounding him, sheltering him from the world for just a moment.

 

…

 

Dean sat in the kitchen, nursing a beer while Castiel cooked. The alpha had decided on homemade pizza, something he’d never done before, and Dean had been helping out and instructing how to make the perfect dough and tomato-sauce. Cas had suggested buying the easy-roll-out-on-a-sheet kind but one look from Dean had made him silent.

The easy version was easy for a reason and did not taste like anything but sweetened cardboard. Dean had tried it in a moment of desperation and had made sure never to get that desperate again. He preferred no pizza over horrible pizza, that much was for sure.

His eyes kept following Castiel as he moved around in the kitchen, humming a tune Dean didn’t recognize. It was cozy, homey. It made him feel at ease after the session with Charlie. Calmed the maelstrom of noise inside his head of things therapy had stirred. If it was that bad after the first session, he couldn’t help but worry about those to come.

Watching Castiel made the maelstrom seem more distant, like it was just background noise.

Strong hands moved with ease, like he had never done anything but cut up onions and garlic for the sauce. Flakes from the dough clung around his fingernails.

Cas belonged in the kitchen as sure as salt and pepper did.

Dean swallowed. He wasn’t supposed to think like that, wasn’t supposed to want Castiel to stay. It was a temporary lease. One day, Cas would move out. He could only hope that the day would come later rather than sooner. They had agreed on one year for starters, after the trial period. A year just seemed like so little time, all of a sudden. He had already wasted so much of it sitting in his room, staring at his ceiling.

“Should I save some of the tomatoes as toppings?” Cas interrupted his thoughts.

Dean blinked a few times. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Castiel dumped most of the tomatoes in the pot where the onions had browned, added a bit of water, a splash of red wine vinegar, salt and pepper before he turned the heat down to medium.

A lovely, rich smell spread in the kitchen, the fan unable to keep up.

“Smells good.”

“Mmh,” the alpha hummed in agreement.

Yeah, he really did fit well into Dean’s kitchen.

They kept chatting while the sauce simmered in the background, while Castiel rolled out the dough and started adding the filling.

It was going to be delicious.

“You truly are an amazing cook, Cas!”

“Thank you.” Cas was smiling at him, softly. “I haven’t been always, though.”

“Nah, then you wouldn’t have suggested premade dough,” Dean grinned. “I’ve always thought people were either born with the talent to cook or not. Sure everyone can learn to make food, but it’s hard to learn to make something really good. Like this.” He waved at the pizza for emphasis.

“I once forgot to add water before boiling the pasta. Gabe still teases me about that. But I learned,” the alpha shrugged, smile wider with the memory. “It’s not the only mistake I’ve made in the kitchen, but I’m pretty sure it’s my worst.”

Dean laughed.

“I’m pretty sure I would tease you, too, if you managed to do that here. Like the boiled eggs without water.” To be fair, Dean figured, it had been before Cas had gulped down his morning coffee so he’d strictly speaking not been awake yet. 

“Yes, I’m aware,” came the dry answer. There was still a light in Castiel’s eyes when Dean looked up, making it clear for those who knew him that he was simply making fun.

It’d taken Dean a bit to learn that Castiel’s humor had a tendency to be both dry and sassy, but he’d grown to appreciate it.

He bit into the pizza again, humming around the bite as he savored the taste of it. It was well balanced, a bit cheesy, but Dean was a man who could appreciate that.

It wasn’t until Castiel started to lick tomato-sauce off his fingers that Dean realized he’d been staring at the alpha again. It was one thing when he had his back turned, and couldn’t see Dean watching. It was something else entirely  when he was doing it so openly.

Watching a man, watching an alpha, licking off tomato-sauce shouldn’t do anything to Dean.

He just couldn’t help the burning sensation starting low in his belly and around his groin.

“I think I need a shower. Awesome pizza!” The words almost fell out of his mouth, hurried, too fast. It wasn’t at all how he had wanted it to come out, but he needed to get away from the table and he needed to do it fast. 

Castiel looked almost hurt as Dean practically bolted out the kitchen, leaving half a slice on his plate and the alpha sitting all alone.

 

Locking the bathroom door behind him, Dean leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

No, he wasn’t attracted to Cas. He really, really, really was not. There would be no boner from watching him eat, there would be no slick starting to soak his underwear. He was fine. It had just  _ felt _ that way for a moment, because Dean was confused and hadn’t even jerked off in weeks.

Anything would seem sexually appealing after that long.

It was worse than waking up with morning wood after Cas had stayed in his bed. He always did. Healthy male anatomy and shit. Had nothing to do with anyone being in bed with him or with the alpha smelling so damned good.

Dean didn’t care about how Cas smelled. He didn’t care about his slender fingers. He wasn’t attracted to the alpha, not like that, not ever.

They were just friends, and one could like friends.

He realized he was breathing hard and racked and if Castiel was on the other side of the door, he’d surely be able to hear Dean. Maybe he’d worry, and ask Dean to let him in, and if there was one person he was not ready to face, it was Cas.

Dean turned on the faucet, and let the water hitting the floor drown out the sound of his own breathing. Dammit, wasn’t therapy supposed to help with the anxiety shit? Was he even anxious? He wasn’t sure. Didn’t feel lightheaded like he had some of the other times, but he felt odd.

Wrong.

It wasn’t right. Slowly he shed his tee, threw it onto the floor with a lot more force than necessary.

He had a sour taste in his mouth, almost felt like crying.

What was going on with him?

He wasn’t attracted to Castiel. He wasn’t one of those weak omega bitches, didn’t need a knot to fill him up or fuck him or breed him. He didn’t need an alpha, never had, never would.

Dean did damned fine by himself.

He ignored the little voice reminding him that Cas had been the one to feed him and shower him after Bobby told him to come back when better. Ignored the part of him who longed to go back out to the alpha, have someone tell him it would be okay. He didn’t need him.

He hurried his pants off, threw them on the floor along with his underwear.

Weren’t suppressants supposed to take care of excessive slick production anyway? Dammit, he should try a new brand maybe. Maybe it would help with his bodily confusion.

He’d call his doctor in the morning.

The water was too hot for his liking, bit he didn’t care that his skin turned red as it poured down over him. He didn’t care that it itched and burned. If anything, it kept him grounded. It wasn’t that he’d found Cas any degree of attractive. It was a hormonal problem. Had he even taken his suppressants like he was supposed to? Throat tight, he decided to check it once he was out of the shower. If nothing else, it  _ could _ explain why he was reacting the way he was.

It took a good ten minutes before he turned the heat down to something he could enjoy.

Maybe it really had nothing to do with Castiel. After all, he’d always found a hot girl  licking her fingers sexy, and with the dry spell he’d been going through lately, no one could really blame his stupid body for getting things confused, could they?

He wasn’t attracted to Cas.

 

The appropriate amount of suppressants were still in the blister-package, meaning he didn’t need to worry about that being the reason for his sudden slick-production. No matter how awkward and embarrassing and unexpected, it didn’t seem that he was in any danger of going into a sudden heat. Dean sighed softly, running a finger over the small bumps in the blister package. It had never been his choice to present an omega, but at least he still had suppressants as an option.

He still intended to call his doctor, and ask what could possibly be going on. The suppressants were supposed to, well, suppress. He’d gotten himself prescribed the strongest on the market for a reason, that reason being he didn’t want to produce slick when aroused or smell particularly like an omega. They weren’t entirely fool-proof, his scent still sweet in a way a beta or an alpha would never be. But it was dulled enough that a regular deodorant would’ve been enough on a normal day, he just chose to use the scent-blocking one to be sure. To cover up his emotions.

Before emerging from the bathroom, he made sure to hide the evidence of his unexpected reaction in the bottom of the laundry-pile, knowing that he was probably going to wash clothes when Cas was working the following day either way.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Cas asked softly when he entered their living room.

Dean smiled awkwardly, running a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Castiel just smiled back at him, something more genuine than Dean had managed and made space on the sofa for him.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY, it's sunday, have a surprise chapter!!! 
> 
> I hope ya all are still with me. Posting will probably be twice a week from now on. But I'm shit with a schedule too. 
> 
>  
> 
> So strap in foeks, because we are still going strong on this rollercoaster.

Being alone in the daytime meant that Dean was left with a lot of time to think. After their third session, Charlie had suggested he join a few online support groups for people who had lost parents, along with omega support groups.

Dean used a ridiculous amount of time thinking about Castiel and what the hell was going on between them. He felt pretty certain that they had moved beyond what was usual for friends to do, but also that they weren’t venturing anywhere close to a relationship.

Cas slept in Dean’s bed almost every night. And awkward morning boner situations aside (being young, healthy males, it was kinda inevitable, right?), there was nothing else going on. No touching, no kissing, no groping. Dean could swear that Castiel sometimes looked at him like he wanted to take that step, to touch Dean like a lover and not like a friend. But he never did.

It was probably a good thing. The omega had no idea how he would react to it.

Sometimes, he wondered if he was left with too much time to think.

 

His brain kept straying back to Cas, so he decided to do what he’d promised and check out the support forums Charlie had recommended for him.

After signing up and filling out his information, Dean found himself browsing the omega site with deep interest. There was pretty much forum for everything. Dealing with heats, from dealing with unpredicted slick-production in public and the easiest way to wax legs, to cooking and cleaning tips. None seemed particular directed towards shaming omegas who weren’t hairless or housekeepers, but simply people asking for advice and giving it freely.

It warmed Dean.

He even found a section where parents with newly presented omega children could ask for advice on how to help their child. It was clearly directed towards beta or alpha parents who had little or no experience with it.

He briefly wondered if it would’ve changed anything had John had someone to talk to about Dean back then.

Probably not, but it was a nice thought, knowing that parents had a place to go for advice on anything from which sex toys were best to relieve the heat, to what foods and drinks most omega’s preferred when in heat.

 

Dean was pretty much just killing time before he needed to leave for the doctor’s office. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want another set of eyes staring at him like the freak he was. But since the pizza-incident, he’d found himself hurrying into the shower more than once, and he was fucking done with it. It had to be his suppressants fucking around with him. Had to be something the doctor could fix somehow.

He didn’t want to think of the consequences if it wasn’t. Didn’t want to worry about the possibilities of dealing with heats again or stinking like omega. He didn’t want to consider what it would mean in regards to having Castiel living with him. It wasn’t an option. His doctor  _ had _ to be able to do something, had to make sure he wasn’t stuck without the suppressants.

Dean forced himself to take a deep breath. His heart was beating too fast. 

Despite knowing he would be half an hour early, he took off, practically flying down the old stairs from his apartment at second floor. Maybe his body had just gotten used to the suppressants, was all.

He’d read somewhere that it was bound to happen at some point. Change of brand was the most common way to deal with the problem, but since he was already on the medically prescribed ones that required yearly bloodwork and shit and came with a whole novel of side effects, well, he couldn’t just change from one brand to another. There were consequences to being on as high a level of hormones as he was.

Licking his lips nervously, Dean navigated the car downtown towards the office.

 

“Hello, Donna,” he greeted his doctor with what he hoped was a warm smile when the door had closed behind them.

“Howdy, Dean.”

It had taken him a while, getting used to her way of being. But at some point along the line he’d grown to like her. He felt safe around her from their first meeting, but trusting his instincts had taken quite a lot of time.

“I think my suppressants are starting to fuck with my system,” he stated before she even got around to asking why he was there.

Donna raised her brows. “How come?”

“I’ve…” He felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Even though it was a far cry from the first time he’d told her about his bodily functions, it never got any easier. “I’ve been experiencing unusual slick production.”

“Ah.” She tapped it down on her computer. He hated how everything got saved somewhere in the system, there for anyone to find it if they looked hard enough. Didn’t mean he had a choice about it.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Two weeks, maybe?”

“Anything in your life changed?”

Dean laughed, but it didn’t sound as bitter as he had expected. “Oh doc, so much has changed.”

Donna just raised her brows even more. He wondered if there wasn’t some kind of physical law against brows going that high.

“I’ve had an alpha move in with me about, uh, two or three months ago? I lost my job and got kinda depressed. I’ve started seeing a therapist.”

“Oh my god, congratulations!” Donna exclaimed. “I just don’t see how the slick production is a problem in that case?”

It took Dean a moment too long to protest. “We’re not together, Donna,” he corrected her.

“Aaaaaaah,” she agreed, tapping more on her computer. He almost wanted to ask what she was writing. Almost.

“So this hasn’t been going on the entire time he’s been living with you?”

“No,” he agreed. “But it’s been a problem since he started sleeping with me.” It came out too fast, completely wrong and Dean felt his face heat to impossible degrees.

Someone could use him to cook eggs.

Donna blinked a few times, mouth open. Dean had never seen her so confused.

“We’re not having sex!” It came out louder than needed.

“Okay?” Donna raised a single brow at him.

“He’s… I’m just… ugh.” He ran a hand over his face, trying to scrub off the embarrassment and confusion. “I didn’t mean it like that. We’re not sleeping together as in having sex. But he sleeps in my bed most nights now. It helps to have someone near when I have nightmares, to not wake up alone.”

He could practically see the gears turning inside Donna’s head until she nodded in agreement.

“Yup, close contact is very important to the human body. Skin hunger is an actual thing. It makes good sense.”

Dean didn’t like the way she looked at him like she knew something he didn’t. Like she was just about to give him news he really, really didn’t want to hear.

“I’m not sure the suppressants are at fault here, though. I’m going to get some bloodwork taken and see what the results are, and after those are through we can try switching you to a different brand… but it’s most likely your body reacting to the close proximity of a virile alpha.” She hesitated for a moment. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but nature is nature, and part of your biology is designed to react to alphas. I’m not saying it can’t be the suppressants starting to fail—you’ve been on them forever—but you need to consider other possibilities too.”

He felt himself grow numb with her words. It wasn’t a possibility he felt like considering, not at all. He didn’t like it a bit. What was he supposed to do if that was the case? Ask Cas to stay in his own bed, ignore Dean when he cried out in distress at night? It didn’t quite seem like good options to him. But what else could he possibly do?

“Please just do the bloodwork.”

Donna looked like she could have kicked herself.

“I’m so sorr…”

“Please Donna,” he interrupted her. “I’m not mad at you. I just… I don’t know what to do with this, okay? I just wanted this to be some sort of medical error, something to fix within a reasonable timeline. I don’t know what to do if that’s not the case.”

She leaned forward and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. In the past he would’ve brushed it off, but not now. He trusted her enough for that.

“I know, and first off we check your bloodwork and try a different brand with slightly different hormone levels. See what that does for ya. And if it doesn’t help, well, maybe talk with that alpha of yours? And the therapist, maybe. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

He swallowed, nodding in agreement. It sure was.

Dean almost wished that Cas was waiting outside for him like he usually was after therapy. He didn’t quite feel like sitting behind the wheel, didn’t quite feel like himself.

It took him three cigarettes and a lot of deep breaths with Castiel’s voice in his head before he was ready to get behind the wheel.

He got home safely somehow. 

 

If Castiel noticed him behaving a little more off than usual, if he noticed how Dean avoided him, he didn’t comment on it. Dean still found himself asleep with strong arms wrapped around his body, ensuring that no harm could come to him.

 

…

 

“Is therapy supposed to make you feel this much like crap?” he complained on their way home from his fifth session with Charlie.

“I think so.”

“It doesn’t make a lick of sense, Cas, it really doesn’t. If I’ve managed anything since I started therapy it’s been to throw me deeper into the pit. Everything is just… I feel like someone has peeled off a protective barrier and I’m cold and naked and fucking vulnerable and I don’t like it one fucking bit. I don’t.”

Castiel sighed softly. “That part is sort of the point, though.”

“Doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, to get the bottom of the problem, you have to work through layers upon layers of things you haven’t dealt with. Some of it’s serious and caused you enough harm the first time around for you to bury it somewhere in your mind where you didn’t have to let it affect you,” Cas explained. “And that hurts. No matter how you do it, that hurts.”

“No need to tell me about it,” Dean grumbled, sinking into the seats with his arms crossed like a petulant child.

“You don’t have to like it for it to be effective.”

He didn’t bother answering with anything but a grumble.

 

His biweekly sessions with Charlie did leave him exhausted and feeling shitty in a way he’d never been before. And that was saying a lot. 

It still felt like someone was smacking him with a jackhammer after each session though.

The nightmares got worse, too.

Even with Cas in the bed, he woke up screaming, drenched in sweat or crying. Or all three things together. He never got around to tell Cas what it all was about, who he cried out for. In the nighttime it seemed more important for both of them to get back into sleep and somehow, he never found the time while the sun was shining.

Charlie had asked him to do so. It didn’t need to be in great detail, he didn’t need to tell the alpha much. But he did need to start opening up about what he saw. She had said that what little he’d already told Cas had been a great start.

Dinner that evening seemed like a good place to start. He’d probably forget his task if he waited until he woke up again in the night. And maybe talking about it would mean he slept peacefully through the night. A man could only hope.

“I… uh,” he started, not knowing what to say. “I kinda… Charlie said I need to start talking about my nightmares. I just don’t know where to begin.”

“How about telling me what you dreamt last night?” Cas suggested softly. Something around his eyes made him seem older and more compassionate than Dean had ever seen him. It was strange.

Dean nodded tightly, eyes fixed on the cucumber he was slicing. “I keep dreaming about the night when dad died, you know? Did tonight again.” Castiel probably didn’t know.

“So what happens?” The alpha gestured towards the cutting board beside him and Dean got up and started cutting out veggies, finding it relaxing to occupy his hands.

“It mostly starts like it did back then. Dad screams, pushes me away. Takes the hit from the truck himself. I get hit by a car from the opposite lane, but it isn’t driving fast, isn’t hurting me, not really. Not the way the truck is hurting dad. There’s blood everywhere, and it’s so, so messy. We get to the hospital and the trauma team stands there. They fight. But there was nothing they could do, massive blood loss and damaged organs. Not even a buttload of blood bags or donors could’ve saved him. Nothing.” Dean swallowed as he kept his eyes trained on the cutting board, continuing to keep his fingers working.

“And that’s when things get really bad. Sometimes it just repeats itself. Tonight, he came back, told me that I hadn’t been worth saving. That it should have been the other way around and that I should be dead and he alive. And I agree with him, Cas. I just sit there in my dream and agree, and I’m crying because I know he’s right, I know I don’t deserve to be alive for shits. He tells me I’m not worth the trouble, that I’ll never be. And then it starts over in an endless loop until you wake me up. Sometimes Sam gets thrown in the mix, somehow. Sometimes it’s other people I care about. And I watch them die, I watch the truck plow them into bits and pieces against the road while dad keeps telling me that it should’ve been me.”

Dean stopped talking as abruptly as he’d cut over the cucumber a moment before. His vision was unclear, he couldn’t see what he was doing and knew that continuing to cut was not something he should be doing.

Castiel’s arms found their way around him.

He felt so hollow, leaning his forehead against the alpha’s shoulder, breathing in unevenly.  

“Fuck, I hate it so much. And when it ain’t that damned truck, over and over again, it’s almost worse. The truck I know, I know what is going to happen. I somehow know I’m dreaming even if I can’t wake up. I can recognize the place and the machine and… but the other dreams are worse, I never know what to expect.”

It didn’t quite feel like he had enough emotions to cry. His throat felt tight, the tears were stinging in his eyes. But he wasn’t quite upset enough, the residual emotions not strong enough. He sucked in his upper lip biting into it.

“I don’t know Cas. I just don’t know.”

Fingers gently traced his spine through the tee he was wearing. How long they stood like that, Dean had no idea.

 

“Come on, I’m hungry,” he mumbled as he detangled himself from Castiel. The alpha didn’t quite looked like he believed Dean. If anything he looked like someone who considered scooping Dean up from the floor and building him a pillow fort or something equally stupid and calming to shut out the world.

“I appreciate you telling me this. I know it is very hard on you,” Cas said, lifting his hand as if he was about to touch Dean again. Instead he smiled, a sad thing Dean had never wanted to see on his face.

As if they had made a silent agreement, they started cooking again, Dean cutting up the veggies while Cas started roasting the meat.

It felt so natural.

 

…

 

Donna called at the end of the week, just as Dean had started to grow restless with the need to know. Waking up in dire need of a shower was becoming a more regular thing, and a part of him had started to question if morning wood really had to be that hard.

He needed answers, and he needed them now.

_ “Can you come by the office later today? I have an opening at one.” _

He’d agreed. It wasn’t like he had more important things to do. 

 

Nervous energy filled his being as he drove down to the doctor’s office. He kept thrumming his thumbs against the steering wheel and red lights made him swear in a way he didn’t usually do.

Dean was seated in the waiting room by 12:15. So he’d left early and made good time, so what?

He only checked to make sure he’d remembered to park in the patients-only lots three times while waiting. He had.

Only managed to smoke half a pack of cigarettes. 

Donna called him in at 12:55.

It’d been a long ass wait.

“Alright,” Donna started. She looked like the bearer of bad news. Dean didn’t like it one bit.

“Your body is starting to reject the suppressants. This mean that another brand most likely will not work, nor will switching to a different dosage. You have simply gotten too used to it. Being off suppressants for a while might reverse those effects, but I don’t know for sure. There hasn’t been many studies and the few that exist were done on female omegas.”

Donna’s lips were tight. “There are other options, but most of those weren’t tested on male omegas and your insurance will most likely not cover them. You have been on suppressants for way longer than recommended and way stronger than recommended, and I cannot advise you to try out any of the trial drugs out there. Your organs still need to filter through it, still need to adjust to it, and at this point I’m not sure anything else advisable.”

“What are you saying?”

“That as your physician I think you should hand in the suppressants at the nearest pharmacy and figure out a way to go on with your life without,” Donna said.

“And as my friend?”

“As your friend I would never ask you to do so. But I would also ask you not to jeopardize your health by trying out shit not meant for you. The side effects could be nasty considering that most alternatives to traditional suppressants are meant for female omegas. There’s… there is just not many options out there for someone like you, Dean.”

“Fuck,” he growled out. She’d told him everything he’d feared was going to be true. Every worry he’d tried to suppress the past week was going to be a fucking reality. He’d have to deal with heats, he wouldn’t be able to mask his scent as easily. 

Dean felt like screaming. Or getting very fucking drunk. Just forget it all like that.

Donna looked devastated. He knew her well enough to know that she’d much rather have told him something else entirely. She’d been his doctor for years and had been the first he’d felt truly comfortable around.

“I’m so sorry Dean.”

“So, this has nothing to do with the alpha? It’s just, bad timing or something?”

Donna nodded. “Having an alpha around has probably sped up the symptoms you notice, but no, he has by no means caused your body to start rejecting it, just like having him move out won’t make the suppressants work suddenly.”

“I wouldn’t ask him to,” Dean told her. Cas had made his place a home. Throwing him out wouldn’t be an option. “But what the fuck do I tell him when I get home? He didn’t sign up for a moody bitch or heats or any of that shit when he moved in with me. He thought I was a beta, dammit.”

“He does know you’re an omega now?”

“Yeah, told him pretty early on. Didn’t like the sneaking around and having to hide shit.”

“Well, then you just say it as it is. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Dean glared at her. “I’m going to lose control over my body. Entire, fucking control. Probably beg him to fuck me once I go into heat. That’s damned shameful is what it is.”

“I know it feels that way, but that’s not on you. It doesn’t make you weak or worth any less.”

Closing his eyes for a moment Dean ignored her words. It sounded too much like what Charlie would tell him, what Sam said and what Cas would whisper in the night.

“Still not what he signed up for, though.”

“You just have to be honest with him, Dean. You’re not the first omega living with an alpha without the desire to bone him. You’ll work it out.”

“Are checkups covered by my insurance? You know, in a year or something to see if I can get back on suppressants?” he sounded so desperate. Even to his own ears it sounded too close to begging.

“Yeah. And I’d like to see you after your first heat to see what can be done with birth control as well. Since the suppressants have acted as such up until now I’m not going to prescribe you anything until your body has run a full cycle and figured out what would work the best for you,” Donna told him.

“Ain’t like I’m going to bone anyone, doc,” he tried to wink at her, play it off. Like it didn’t matter at all. Like he didn’t give a shit about any off it.

Donna didn’t look impressed and said in her best doctor and mom voice: “Be sure to use a condom if you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me wondering how good I am at surprising my readers: Had you guys guessed that the suppressants where failing?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per popular demand: A chapter more 
> 
> Also, sorry everyone. I'm so not nice to Dean. :( Warnings for a shitton of selfblame and selfhate and loads of feels. 
> 
> And a bit of fluff.

As it turned out, Dean didn’t deliver his suppressants to the pharmacy right away, nor did he tell Castiel about the visits to the doctor.

The alpha probably suspected something was wrong, but Dean didn’t budge when asked. Where he would usually seek Cas’ company he found himself withdrawing, smoking outside on the balcony instead of watching movies in the evening. Sam even noticed he sounded off during their phone calls. His little brother had long ago learned what Castiel still hadn’t: when Dean was like that it was best to just let him be until he was ready to talk about shit. Pressuring him usually made him back off faster than the questions were asked.

It really wasn’t fair towards Cas, but Dean had no idea what else to do. He was at a loss, frustrated and embarrassed. It also didn’t help that the alpha smelled like home and all good things in the world and that Dean’s libido seemed to have taken a turn upwards.

So, he did the only thing he could think off and avoided matter until his next session with Charlie. She had to have all the answers. She had to help him.

 

Driving there, Cas was awfully quiet. Dean could sense the small gazes send his way.

“I’m sorry I’ve been an ass lately,” he said, fidgeting around with a loose thread in the seatbelt.

Cas hummed in agreement, his scent changing to something lighter and softer.

“I’ll tell you stuff soon, okay? I just, I’m kinda lost. I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

“It’s alright, Dean. I’m just glad that I didn’t do something wrong, or overstep any boundaries,” the relief was obvious in Cas’ voice and Dean instantly felt awful for making him believe that he’d been the one to do something wrong. It’d never been about Cas, not really.

He shook his head. “Not your fault.”

“I’ll pick you up in an hour. You can wait inside if you prefer,” Cas told him as he parked the car beside the apartment building where Charlie had her clinic.

“Not going to wait inside for me?” He’d opted for cheerful and nonchalant, but didn’t succeed. His voice was too high-pitched, nervous.

“No, I have some errands to run.” Castiel smiled, something small and insecure.

Dean nodded before getting out the car. The door creaked unhappily and he made a mental note to give Cas’ car a once over as soon as possible. Maybe Bobby would let him do it in the garage on a weekend or something.

Charlie greeted him warmly as always. That hadn’t changed, even though everything else around him seemed to have. He’d no idea how that made him feel.  

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said.

“Yes?”

“My suppressants are failing,” he started.

Dean wasn’t quite sure what they’d talked about for the rest of the session if he had to be honest. Charlie had encouraged him to talk to Cas as soon as possible (and Sam too) and to get off the suppressants as soon as possible as well. That much stuck.

While she’d been helpful and had plenty of suggestions for how to tell them, Dean still felt insecure and unable to figure out how to say things. She’d even written bits and pieces down for him on the papers he now had clutched in his hand, apparently sensing he wouldn’t be able to recall much.

It wasn’t easy.  

He couldn’t keep taking the suppressants and hope they’d fix just a bit of what was going on. At some point, his body would go into full blown rejection, and the heat would hit no matter what. It would likely damage his body even more, make the very tiny chance of him going back on suppressants one day drop to zero for sure.  There was no way he could keep doing that to himself. Didn’t stop him from feeling nauseous every time he thought about it.

 

Cas was sitting alone in the waiting room, one leg resting on top of the other as he read a magazine. It looked strange on him, reading something other than books heavy enough to kill with. Dean looked around again, making sure they were alone. His errands had apparently been fast to run. 

“Heya,” he greeted, heart beating in his throat. Dean felt close to throwing up. His body wasn’t quite doing what he wanted it to, and instead of waiting until they were in the safety of the car or back in the apartment, he blurted out:

“My suppressants are failing.”

He watched the emotions shift on Castiel’s face before eventually setting into something understanding. The magazine was placed on the table. This time Cas didn’t manage to hug him before Dean had thrown his arms around his waist like a clingy octopus.

“I have no fucking clue what to do.” The admittance was wooly as he inhaled plenty of sweater while speaking the words.

They stood like that until Dean felt a bit less sick.

“Let’s get home,” Cas said. Dean nodded against the sweater.

 

And home they went. Both men were quiet on the way back. Dean was lost in thought, and he suspected Cas to be, too. He wanted to reach out, ask Cas what the hell he thought. But he didn’t. He feared, even though he knew better, that the alpha would blame Dean for the suppressants no longer working. That he would tell Dean that he was no longer interested in renting the room and that he would pack his things and pay the last month lease from a safe distance, living with Gabriel.

But no matter what, it’d change things between them, if it hadn’t already. Dean could feel it as sure as he could feel the seat beneath him, the rumble of the road under his feet and the cold from the window against his cheek. Things were different for sure, but exactly how he had no idea.

He just didn’t want Castiel to leave. Couldn’t imagine what it would be like without the alpha. Didn’t want to, not one bit.

“You are thinking very loud,” Cas interrupted his thoughts. Dean turned to look at him confused. “Your scent changes with your emotions. It’s stronger now. Maybe I should’ve noticed earlier, and said something, but the change has been so subtle. I could barely get anything off your scent at first, but I thought it was me getting to know you better.” Cas laughed. It was edged with bitterness.  

“So you can smell me even over the blockers?” Dean didn’t like the hysteria creeping into his voice. It sounded wrong and loud and screechy, like an angry crow demanding answers.

“Yes.” Castiel’s confirmation made his heart rate skyrocket as his throat closed off.

“How long?” he coughed out. “How long have you been able to scent me?”

“Since we started sleeping together. I simply thought it was because I knew your scent better, understood you more, that I could.” Dean didn’t understand why Castiel sounded so bitter about it. There was nothing to be bitter about.

“I don’t think anyone who didn’t know you would, though.”

Sure, sure, no one would know a thing. Until the suppressants really fucking failed or he went into heat or he forgot his blockers one day or didn’t shower meticulously enough.

“Fuck, what do I do?” he asked again as Cas guided the car into its usual spot with ease. He could see the way small muscles in the alpha’s jaw twitched, the way he held his shoulders. He was upset too.

“I don’t know, Dean. I really, really don’t know.”

He tried swallowing down the lump forming in his throat.

Cas was supposed to have the answers. But of course, he wouldn’t have, not for something like this. After all, Cas had turned out the right designation, it’s not like he could relate.

Somehow, they got to the second floor. Somehow, he managed to keep breathing enough to have air to take one slow step after another. The world moved at a speed he couldn’t quite manage.

Castiel opened the door and Dean followed him in.

“Are you going to move out now?”

Cas turned on his heel, looking at Dean with brows furrowed and head tilted like he so often did when Dean talked badly about himself.

“What on earth would make you think I would do that?” Cas asked.

“I mean, you didn’t...fuck, Cas, you didn’t sign up for all this shit. You didn’t sign up for having a roommate nuts as they come, you didn’t sign up for me being a fucking screaming banshee at night. You sure as hell didn’t sign up for sharing your space with someone who’s going to be going into heats and stinking the whole place up, or for me to turn all needy and whiney.”

Dean didn’t like the way Castiel kept looking at him, like he somehow understood something all of a sudden.

“Dean, there’s nothing wrong with you being an omega. I’ve never held that against you and I never will. Do you hold my knot against me? Do you hate me for going into ruts? Because I know that it smells even worse than an omega in heat and there is just about the same amount of spunk-filled laundry to deal with. Just as much need and as little control.”

Not that Dean would know since Cas usually went for Gabriels when he neared his ruts, claiming that it was a better solution for the both of them.

“No, I don’t. But I’m a male omega, Cas, I’m an abomination. I’m not supposed to exist. You can’t have both a dick and a uterus. It just doesn’t make sense. You don’t see it animals, you don’t see it outside the human race. It’s wrong,” he protested, the words from his childhood still lodged so deeply into him that he had no clue what else to say. What Castiel said wasn’t right. There was a difference.

Cas was meant to reproduce,  the ruts ensuring he’d have tons of healthy kids. Dean was a freak of nature.

“I have no clue who have taught you that shit, Dean,” Cas’ voice was laced with disgust, not directed towards Dean, but towards whoever had filled his head with his current thoughts.

“My dad.”

Castiel clenched his jaw, teeth moving against one another hard enough for Dean to pick up the sound over his own terrified heartbeat.

“I’m not leaving, nor am I going to treat you any different. I’m not expecting anything from you or anything in our relationship to change. I’ll gladly help you out with food and water during your heats, like you do during my ruts.” Dean opened his mouth to protest when Cas cut him off with a sharp: “No Dean, listen. I don’t care what you were born as, I don’t care if you have two uteruses or three penises hidden down there. You are not a freak. You are the most admirable man I’ve ever had the honor of meeting.”

Dean was stunned.

Cas said nice things to him occasionally, but not like that.

“I admire you. I admire how you take care of Sam, how you have his whole life, how you treat others. Especially those less lucky than yourself. I really, really couldn’t care less about your first _or_ secondary gender, Dean. I would have liked you had you been born female as well.”

He swallowed, the desire to hide somewhere growing with each word leaving Castiel’s mouth. He didn’t like it, not one bit. It felt awkward, hearing someone talk about him like that, seeing that Cas meant it. That he was convinced that Dean was a good person.

“I’m not worth it, Cas. I’m really fucking not worth it.”

“You are to me.”

“You just don’t get it, do you? People around me, they die. I get them killed. I get people I care about killed, Cas. I’m at fault for more than one death! You can’t just stand there, tell me I deserve to be treated like I’m worth squat. I’m not, I’m not worth the trouble.”

“Are you referring to what happened with your father, Dean?” Cas asked, obviously worried and confused. It was clear he hadn’t anticipated Dean’s reaction.

“YES!” he got out, too loud. “And mom, fuck, that was my fault too. I let the candles burn and they caught the curtains and it spread.”

He realized he was crying, tears streaming freely down his cheeks, dampening his tee as he tried to explain, tried to get Castiel to get out as fast as possible. He just wasn’t worth it. Something was bound to happen, hurting Cas.

“You were just a kid, Dean. You shouldn’t have had the responsibility to check that all candles where blown out. That’s a grown up’s job.” Cas was cupping his face, gently drying the tears off with concern written all over his face. His blue eyes had turned dark with worry.

“But it’s my fault!” he cried out, trying to get the alpha to understand what his father had told him for so long. He should have put out the candles, should have thought about it. Age didn’t matter, Dean had been the one to ask for the candles in the first place, he should have made sure they were blown out again.

Castiel didn’t bother protesting with words, instead grabbing Dean and dragging him into yet another hug. Dean thrashed against him, begged him to let go, to get out of the apartment, to leave, to be safe.

Castiel didn’t.

He kept holding Dean with just enough force to keep him there, but never enough that he felt trapped. He didn’t leave and he didn’t let go. Not when Dean stopped protesting and his desperate cries turned to body-wrecking sobs, not when snot and tears were soaking through his shirt as Dean leaned into him. He stayed through it.

It was a slow process, calming down and finding a normal breathing pattern again. His nose was blocked, eyes stinging like he’d been staring at a computer screen for too long.

“I’m not going to leave, not as long as you want me here,” Cas mumbled into his hair, so close that Dean could feel the ghost of his breath.

“I don’t want you to go,” he slowly admitted. “Like having you around.”

“I like being around, too.”

“I’m so sorry to dump all of this shit on you.”

“I chose to be here. I could have left at any point Dean, and I didn’t.”

For a moment he debated with himself, not knowing if he wanted answers or not. In the end, curiosity got the better off him.

“Why not?”

“There are a lot of reasons for that. But I’ve grown quite fond of you. I can’t quite imagine just leaving even though we would probably still stay friends. I at the least like to think we would.”

“Mhm,” Dean agreed, squeezing Cas. “I’m glad Sam is so full of stupid ideas.”

He could feel Castiel chuckling more than hear it.

“Me too.”

 

Castiel helped him figure out that a clean cut from the suppressants was the best way to go, everything considered. The internet warned that he would get some nasty mood swings, but the alpha had just shrugged at that.

“I grew up with sisters. Two of them omegas, so I’m prepared for the mood swings that a heat can generate.” Cas smiled softly. “I doubt I’m any better when I’m nearing a rut. But I’ll have chocolate handy.”

“Why would that work?” Dean asked. He’d heard it before but never figured it out. His relationship with his ex Lisa had never gotten to the point where they moved in together.

“No idea, but they swore by it. Usually it would do the trick, too.”  

“I prefer pie over chocolate at any time if it comes to that.”

“Noted,” Cas agreed. “You are still going to keep your blockers and all that, right?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I’m not sure I can do without them, too.”

“I’ll drop off what’s left of your suppressants at the pharmacy on my way back from work tomorrow.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem, Dean.” Castiel lifted his head and smiled warmly towards him. “I know this is not easy. And a far cry from what you would have asked for if given a choice.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

They spent the evening watching movies and eating popcorn like it was any other day. When they agreed it was time for bed, Dean grabbed the sleeve on Cas’ shirt, dragging him into the bedroom.

“You make an excellent pillow,” he stated.

Castiel started to laugh. “I’m sure I do.”

Exhausted, Dean fell asleep quickly for once. He couldn’t recall a single nightmare when he woke up the next morning, for once feeling like just maybe, things could turn out alright.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since my lovely beta Adaille made me aware that there might be a cultural difference: Where I'm from we usually don't throw meds in the trash or down the drain. Given that Cas cares a lot about the environment I wrote him to hand the left-overs to a pharmacy for safe destruction (or whatever they do with it). 
> 
> So if it seems a bit odd compared to where you are from, that might be why. Hormonal birth control affects fish and wild-life in the water near spill water pipes (at the least as far as I'm concerned) and I can't see Cas being OK with Dean throwing his suppressants down the drain. But I also couldn't imagine Dean being ready to go down and hand them back in, so therefore I ended up with this compromise. 
> 
> I hope it makes sense!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, there is going to be some very adult conversations in this chapter. But yay for them actually talking !!
> 
> Also what's a schedule???

Dean looked at his phone again. He had to call Sam at some point and tell him. Sure he could let nature go its ways, wait until his brother visited again and was bound to notice, but he didn’t want the face-on reaction. He just hated the thought of doing it. Somehow he’d managed to clean the fridge and rearrange the cabinets in the kitchen before vacuuming the entire apartment instead. 

Eventually, Dean was out of useful things to do instead of actually calling his little brother.

Breathing heavily through his smoke, Dean picked up the phone, finger hovering over his brother’s name. God knew how Sam would react to the news, ‘cause Dean had no fucking clue. He knew how their dad would take it, but Sam wasn’t him, would never be.

Maybe he’d be proud. Maybe now would be the time where Sam turned into an asshole about the entire thing, now that Dean was unable to hide it anymore. After all, it had been fairly easy to ignore that he was omega since he had started on the suppressants.

Sam picked up after the second ring.

_ “Hey, Dean?” _

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean started, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the afternoon air.

_ “So, what’s up?” _

“I’m off the suppressants,” Dean hurried to say. It had gone well with Cas and Charlie.

_ “Wait, what? Why? Since when?”  _ Sam’s questions came rambling down one after another. “ _ It’s not Castiel’s idea, is it? Fuck, I swear to god, if he has forced you into anything!” _

Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“Relax, Sam, no need to go all alpha on him. It’s not his fault. According to Donna, they’ve been failing for a while. My body just doesn’t react to them anymore, and I’m at risk for damaging my organs and shit if I continue them or up the dose. So, I’m off.”

_ “Oh.” _

“Yeah. There’s no need to turn into something you’re not to protect me. I’m good.” That was a lie, he wasn’t okay with it, and good even less. But he didn’t have a choice and there was nothing Sam could do to change the reality of what was happening.

_ “It might be a good thing, you know? You’ve talked about the side effects of suppressants often enough. There are just so many problems linked to them and there are new studies suggesting that it could be really damaging to take them.” _

Dean shrugged. “Maybe. But as nasty side effects go, I think I’ve been on them long enough that I’ll have done all the damage there is to be done.”

Sam hummed along the line, a neutral sound he used whenever he agreed, but wished he didn’t. Brothers.

_ “I’ll see you this weekend, yeah?” _

“Yup. If you have any free Tupperware bring it, I’ll cook extras you can bring home.”

_ “Thanks. Will Cas be there?” _

“I don’t know man.”

Changing the topic Dean asked Sam about school, content to just let him ramble off. It soothed his nerves, assured him things truly where alright. 

_ “Well, later!”  _ Sam ended the call once he had told Dean everything and anything that had happened since they talked three days ago.  

It’d gone better than feared. Dean wasn’t  sure what he’d expected. Sam to yell at him, blame him like their dad had done back when he’d first presented? It was quite possible. Throughout his early teen years, Sam had sometimes shown just a bit of that behavior. Dean knew he shouldn’t continue to hold it against him, but he still found it hard at times.

Every time Sam reacted differently from their father, to how it’d been back then, it did make the next time a little easier though.

At some point, it’d probably be as if nothing had ever happened. It wasn’t like he’d been belittling Dean or treating him like less of a person, less trustworthy, not like John had. But he‘d hurt Dean more than once with words and his behavior, often without even realizing so.

With a small smile, he killed the cigarette in the ashtray. 

Dean really shouldn’t hold that against him anymore. Sam had grown into a respectful alpha and Dean was damned proud of him for that.

 

Inhaling deeply, Dean wondered what the hell was going on. He could recognize Cas’ scent everywhere, but had it always been so  _ strong _ ? It almost felt like it tried to suffocate him in the tiny living room.

“Fuck, get into the shower already!” he yelled.

Castiel blinked at him, hair curling at his temples with sweat from his run. Dean could even smell his stinky socks from several feet away. It was disgusting, to put it mildly.  

“You stink,” he elaborated.

“Oh, ah. Sorry, I’ll just…” Cas practically bolted from the living room. Dean hurried to open up the windows and draw in fresh air.

Even the outside air felt tainted as he inhaled deeply to clear his nostrils. There were too many scents going on, it was all too strong. What was needed was a thunderstorm to clear it all, give him back the freshness so pollution didn’t clog his system.

He quickly closed the window, realizing that maybe Cas hadn’t been the smelly one after all.  _ Everything  _ seemed to stink his apartment up.

 

When Castiel emerged from the shower, Dean could still scent him. It wasn’t quite as overwhelming as it had been before, but even warm water and soap hadn’t been able to wash away everything that was Cas. Dean found himself scenting the air as the alpha moved closer, trying to pinpoint everything he hadn’t been able to scent before.

If he quit the cigarettes as well, how could would his sense of smell then turn out to be?

Dean didn’t quite feel like that.

“Sorry I yelled at you.”

“Mhm,” Cas hummed in agreement, head tilted in his trying-to-understand-what-is-going-on way. Dean had learned to make a distinction between the tilts. He was pretty proud of himself.

“I think my sense of smell is going nuts,” he explained. “Everything just seems to overwhelm me right now. I tried airing out, and I swear I can smell the garbage from the apartment below us. It’s nasty.”

“Wasn’t that among the things likely to happen going off suppressants?”

Dean shrugged. He could recall having read something like that somewhere. “Yeah. I just hadn’t imagined I’d be able to smell you from a distance.”

“I think it’s pretty normal to be overwhelmed at first. It’s a sense you haven’t used properly for years since your hormone level hasn’t allowed for it,” Cas replied, moving closer slowly.

“You don’t smell bad to me. Never have. But sweat and sour socks? It just, it was too much. I shouldn’t have yelled but, shit, man.”

Castiel laughed. “I’m glad my scent is not repulsive to you. Neither are yours to me – but I think this is fairly normal. You could ask on your omega forum, perhaps some of them have similar experiences and know what you can expect?”

Dean grumbled. In the end he did ask, even if he was flustered and embarrassed about doing it. If his sense of smell, that he had all along after all, turned out that overwhelming, what the hell would his first heat after being on suppressants that long be like?

 

 

…

 

Answers ticked into his topic during the next few days, omegas from all over the world sharing their experiences.

Dean found himself crying in front of his computer one afternoon, overwhelmed with all the support and answers he had received. That people he didn’t know cared enough to use time to answer him.

Stupid hormones. ‘cause apparently random tours down human-water-hose-lane was also a common thing after quitting the suppressants.

If he’d cried a lot before dropping the suppressants it was nothing compared to after. It was random stuff, often things that made him happy rather than sad causing the tears to well up and his voice to go all gooey.

Cas seemed to think it was cute when he teared up over movies and Dean found that he absolutely hated it. Especially that Cas found it adorable. Dean was many things and adorable was not among them.

The internet and Donna promised it was temporary, that after his first heat it‘d all start to adjust properly. His body was just busy trying to figure out shit.

According to the internet, the first heat would also be an interesting thing to deal with. Female omegas and a few male ones shared their experiences alike. Even if he didn’t have lady parts, Dean read their answers with equal interest. The heat biology was close to the same, and there weren’t many answers from male omegas anyway. Not surprisingly so, since the general population had a ratio of a few male omega to every thousand females.

From what he could gather, his heightened sensitivity would explode during the heat. Soft sheets and comforters were advised along with having plenty of foods on hand. A female had lived an entire heat off water and strawberries because she hadn’t been able to stomach anything else.

The difference from what Dean would experience and what most of them wrote, was that he didn’t have an alpha to take care of him. Cas had offered to help him out with food and laundry, and Dean was grateful for that. He wasn’t upset that the alpha hadn’t shown any interest in helping with other needs. He really wasn’t.

But he still knew a heat without a knot would suck.

He needed sex toys.

Dean could hate it all he wanted, but facts where that his body would crave something stuck up his ass. It wouldn’t make it easier or any less embarrassing to deny what needs he was going to have. Not preparing could result in Castiel going out to buy sex toys for him, and that wasn’t happening.   

Thankfully, it turned out that sex toys could be easily purchased via the internet from the safety of the couch.

 

Dean was in the kitchen doing the dishes when he heard keys turning. His purchase of sextoys had made him think hard and long and no matter how much he dreaded it, there were things that needed to be addressed. 

“We need to talk,” he pointed out before Castiel had even hung his trench coat.

“About what?”

He could scent the sudden nervous energy. Figuring out what the changes in Castiel’s scent meant was still hard. He tried, he got better. But he still couldn’t understand much.

“My heat.”

“You’re not in heat yet, Dean. I would be able to smell that,” Cas replied softly. He hung his coat on the hanger before shuffling into the kitchen along with the omega.

Dean had made fresh coffee for them.

“I know, but it won’t be long, I think. Donna agrees, I called her this morning. And I want to talk before I’m a fussy, horny mess.” He poured coffee for both of them, his eyes on the black liquid as it poured into the mugs. It wasn’t like he wanted to talk about it if he could help it, but facing the facts, there was a decent chance he’d ask things of Cas they both would regret outside the heat.

“Yeah?” Cas asked as he sat down opposite of Dean.

“And I just, you know, want us to talk about what to expect and what not and stuff. I’m going to beg you to fuck me, and while heat-me might want that, I don’t.”

His mind was probably playing tricks on him. For a moment he could have sworn that Cas looked disappointed, that the comfortable smell of him turned sour. But it was short, and he was a far cry from certain. It didn’t make sense.

“I appreciate that you want to help me out with food and stuff, though,” he started, knowing that the conversation was going to be embarrassing and humiliating in more than one way. And fuck, he really did appreciate that Cas was willing to help out, he just didn’t know if either of them was really ready for what he was about to ask of him. 

“That’s hardly a difficult thing to offer Dean. I know heats are a lot more strenuous than ruts, and I would like to see you as well as possible after this is over.”

“Yeah, me too. But I just, I wanted to make things clear. No matter what I ask for or say, it’s likely the heat talking.” He licked his lips. “I’m not really interested in alphas outside heats.”

Cas nodded tightly. “Dean, stop beating yourself up about it. I would not have offered if I did not intend to keep that promise. That goes for hands off as well unless you are in danger of hurting yourself, because in that case I will step in, alright?”

“Yeah.” Dean knew he was blushing in the ugliest of ways. His entire head, his ears even, felt too warm like he had been standing outside in ice-cold winds and had just wandered back into a warm room. He was probably looking a lot like a tomato. “I might… fuck, I’ve asked others, and the single omegas all admit that they ended up calling an alpha or having someone over to help with…getting there at the end. Apparently first heats after suppressants are really shit. And I just, as long as it is not penetration, I guess it’s alright if that’s what it takes?” 

Everything seemed off in a weird way. His voice sounded as if he was listening to someone else talk with it. Not quite right. 

The alpha nodded again, even more stiffly this time. Dean could see his jaw work, the way his brows pinched together over his nose. Something didn’t sit right with Cas. He hated that he had to ask for it, but he’d rather have the discussion up front than try to figure out what he was OK with while in a hormonal state that left him unable to consent.  

“Alright, so you are fine with me helping you physically in a limited capacity. I think we need to figure out what the limits are beforehand, then. I don’t want to do something to you that might upset you after your heat, but at the same time, I don’t want you to suffer more than you have to.” 

“How do you know so much about heats?”

“Grew up with sisters, remember? Two of them presented as omegas,” Cas explained. He still sounded strange. Dean could not for the life of him figure out what was going on.

Cas was usually relaxed around him, and had been the few times they had discussed heats earlier on, too. Maybe it was different knowing it was going to happen, and soon. Probably, it was for Dean, anyway. 

“What is within your limits, Dean?”

“No penetration,” he hurried to say, mortified that they had to go into details. But of course Cas would prefer to know what was ok beforehand, of course he would want Dean to consent as much as possible. Fuck. He hated that his stupid, traitorous body had put them in this position, everything was going so well. Did the universe hate him, since he’d have to deal with this shit on top of everything else? 

“You’ve already said that.”

“Yeah. I think hands on is okay for most parts. I’ve no idea about fingering, haven’t done that to myself since my last heat. But I suppose you can do that.” Dean found himself very busy with looking at the coffee in the cup in front of him.

“And using sex toys?”

“Like you use mine, or...?” Dean mumbled. His eyes were trained on the table between them, he couldn’t get himself to meet Cas’ gaze. But he could feel it, could feel those baby blues staring at him, seeking confirmation that he truly was okay with what they were discussing. 

And Dean maybe was and wasn’t. He hated the necessity of it, hated that he  _ had _ to ask Cas in the first place. It was embarrassing, humiliating and it sucked, big time. Fuck, maybe he should have called Charlie and ask for her advice on how to talk about such a subject with a potential heat-partner. 

“Use them on you, yes, that was the idea.”

“Mhm, yeah, I think that’s okay too,” he squicked out.

“You need to do more than think it’s okay. Dean. Heats tend to wind down faster and be milder if there is knotting included, as you know. I need to know if I’m able to provide you with that via toys.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, Cas. I just, I don’t like talking about it, okay?” Dean grumbled, face heating impossibly more so. He wanted to run away and hide, possibly drown the conversation in Jack. But he knew better than to do so. Everything he knew, everything he could remember told him that he would be needing help, and Castiel was his best option after all. 

“And intimate stuff like cuddling and kissing?”

Dean looked at Cas for a long while, thinking. “We already cuddle at night. That’s alright with me, if you can stand being in a room with me at that point.”

“And kissing?” the alpha repeated slowly as if Dean hadn’t heard him the first time around.

“God, Cas, I don’t know. I’ve never…”

Castiel nodded slowly, lips tight. “No kissing, then. I’m not going to take that from you just because you are in heat when you wouldn’t want it otherwise.” His Adam's apple moved up and down a few times like he tried to swallow down emotions.

Dean didn’t feel as relieved as he had hoped. Things were clear between them. They were  _ friends _ for crying out loud. He wasn’t interested in men and especially not alphas.

He wasn’t that kind of omega bitch. He wasn’t a fag.

But looking at Cas, staring into those blue eyes so filled with honesty and worry, Dean couldn’t quite help wondering if maybe, just maybe, John had been wrong about a thing or two.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it's time for the heat! So warnings for all that can possibly follow with something like that. Including a lot of feels. 
> 
> I just also want to stress something to ya all:   
> This is a take on realistic recovery from a lot of shit. It takes time, people are hurt in that process and it sucks. Dean still has a long way to go.   
> And yes, I've been yelling at him a LOT while writing this. 
> 
> I appreciate you guys reading and commenting. It often makes my day to check my inbox.

Dean had spent countless hours talking to people on the support forums to predict how the symptoms of his heat starting would manifest. Some sites suggested uncontrollable libido, rushes of slick, dizziness and of course the change in temperature.

He hadn’t quite anticipated it to start off with an actual sick-to-your-bone-fever.

Cas had been feeding him fruits and cold water while ensuring him that no, he didn’t quite smell like someone close to heat, not yet. He’d been unable to sleep properly, just dozed in and out of horrible fever-induced dreams he could barely remember. Cas was there whenever he cried out, gently shaking him awake and reminding him that while scary, what he saw wasn’t real. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that sick, he felt that miserable.

As the fever broke, Dean could damned well smell how his scent started to change. Cas was obviously affected too. It was so strong, permeating everything around him. He smelled like omega, like heat, like a flower trying to attract bees.

He was no flower in need of pollination.

Body and mind already exhausted from the 48 hours of high fever, he somehow managed to get himself into the shower to let the freezing water cool him down. This time it didn’t leave him shaking, instead he welcomed the contact with icy water. His skin felt so hot it wouldn’t have surprised him if the water turned into steam upon contact.

He didn’t even bother to dry off when he emerged from the bathroom, naked as the day he was born to preserve the cool from the shower. Clothes seemed like a bad idea, he already felt  like a human radiator. No need to trap any of that heat.

Dean flopped down on the top of his comforter, face first. The need had been slowly building low in his stomach, but he wasn’t desperate. Just tired and too hot.

“Can I come in?” Cas interrupted his misery.

“Mhm,” he confirmed, not bothering to cover his naked ass. Cas had seen him crying. His naked ass was nothing.  

“I’ve got you water, and one of those ice-gel packs.” Fucking godsend was what Cas was.

“You smell good,” Dean found himself rambling as his alpha sat down on the side of the bed.

The scent of viral alpha, of Cas should be putting him off. It’d never been the case, instead he’d quickly found the soft scent of Cas to be something safe. Something very close to home. Other alphas made him want to gag, but not Cas. Never Cas.

He moved closer towards Castiel, trying to inhale more of that delicious scent. It probably looked stupid as he was still on his stomach, but Dean didn’t care much. Cas’ scent had sort of gotten an entire situation going on down south and Dean wasn’t ready to show that off just yet.

The omega didn’t quite get the smile he wanted, it was wry and wrong instead of happy and proud like it was supposed to be. Dean squinted, trying to figure things out as Cas inhaled deeply through his mouth.

“That’s the heat talking, Dean.”

“Nooo…”

“Yes, yes, it is. And I think that might me my cue to leave you for now. Yell if you need me, yes?”

Dean didn’t want him to leave, but he wasn’t horny enough to beg Castiel to stay. He still had a dignity to preserve. If what he’d read and could remember from his teenage years was true, it’d get much worse.

Licking his lips, Dean nodded. What else could he do?

He stared at the door as Cas got up and closed it, tears stinging in his eyes with the rejection. It wasn’t like he was supposed to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. His alpha had left him alone, didn’t want to help him through this.

Stupid heat. Cas wasn’t his alpha, wouldn’t be.

 

 

…

 

It took Dean exactly 22 hours into his heat to break. He was miserable as he glared at the clock, realizing that he hadn’t even managed a full day on his own.

Everything was hurting. He was bone deep exhausted. His fucking wrists were throbbing with his pulse in agony, worn out from jacking off more than he’d done in years, from shoving that stupid toy into himself. His dick hurt too, he should’ve used more lubricant. His ass was sore, he wasn’t able to seek out that sweet spot in a good way. The jabbing and poking and shoving the toy into himself for relief was desperate enough to hurt.

Cas had tried to feed him chilled fruits and ice-chips to help with the dehydration between peaks. He’d cuddled Dean whenever he asked for it, even if Dean had a fake knot stuck up his ass. Cas had been fucking patient, a saint.

It just wasn’t tolerable any longer. Everything was a mess of fever and pain and need and Dean, he couldn’t do it.

He just wanted it to be  _ over _ already.

“I can’t do this!” he cried out, Cas’ strong arms wrapped around him. Cas was still dressed, and even the soft fabric of his sweats felt annoying on Dean’s skin. “It hurts so bad.”

“I know,” Cas whispered, running gentle fingers up and down Dean’s spine. “It’s going to be over soon. You are doing so well.”

“I feel like I’m burning up, how is that well?” He knew he was whining like a baby, but he was too miserable to care. His body was ready faster than his mind was, and while his entire being craved more sex, more of everything, he was just fed up.

Heats were no fun.

“Do you want me to help you out?” Cas asked, slowly as if they hadn’t discussed it prior to Dean turning into a horny human radiator.

He hadn’t thought getting hotter was possible, but his cheeks heated several degrees at the prospect. Fuck, Dean shouldn’t be wanting that. He should want Cas out of his bedroom, not closer and more naked. But the thought of it made him hot all over, made the want burn through his veins again.

“Mhm.” He hoped it read as a confirmation.

Castiel slowly ran a finger over his cheekbone, and for a moment, Dean thought he was about to kiss him. It wasn’t surprising that he found himself on board with that idea, given his heat-addled brain. Rationally, he knew he should ask Cas to go before things got out of his control.

The scent of alpha had changed to something deeper and richer and Dean found himself wanting Cas very much to stay.

“What do you need, Dean?” Voice a deep rumble, blue eyes looked at Dean with blown pupils. Cas looked so on board, so much like he wanted it like Dean did.

It sent him spiraling down into a whole other level of horny, slick sliding out of his impossibly wet hole.

“Fuck, I need you Cas, need you so bad,” he whimpered.

The alpha licked his lips as Dean straddled him. He didn’t care that he would soak Cas’ pants with slick, didn’t care that he was embarrassingly wet and hard as he buried his nose against Castiel’s neck, taking in deep breaths.

“Smell so damned good.”

He could feel the warm huffs of air against his own neck as he bared it, let Cas have at it. Scenting one another shouldn’t make him hornier, it shouldn’t make him want everything even more.

Fuck their pre-heat-deal. Dean just wanted Cas buried in him already.

“Lie down,” Cas ordered.

Dean hurried to lie on his stomach, ass in the air. Fuck, he’d never imagined himself to present like a fucking bitch, but there he was, wanting Cas more than he cared about his dignity.

“Turn around, I want to see you.”

Dean turned willingly, too far gone to care about anything but listening to Cas.

Soft hands moved up his thighs, so close to his leaking dick, up his stomach. He closed his eyes, gasping at the sensation. The way Cas looked at him was too far from sex and heat and horniness. It was too close to something Dean wasn’t going to think about, not when the alpha was moving down his torso again, this time with soft kisses.

He cried out as Cas slowly licked up his shaft. The skin was raw and sensitive from jerking off, and he hadn’t known how great it would feel.

Opening his eyes, he watched mesmerized as Cas continued to lick and press kisses down his length, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Dean moaned softly.

The alpha responded by taking him in his mouth, swallowing him down as if he didn’t have a gag reflex.

Licking his way up the alpha smiled at him. “You taste so good.”

It was official. Cas was going to kill him.

Dean could do nothing but to moan and whimper, hoping that his alpha would take mercy on him. “Need you in me, fuck Cas, need you,” he cried out. The teasing was great, but his dick was throbbing painfully with the need to release and his ass begging for attention. Slick was wetting the sheets below him. 

Cas responded by humming around his dick, vibrations stimulating his over-sensitive skin.

“ _ Please _ .”

A finger gently nudged his entrance, like he needed any kind of prep. Too slow Cas pushed in, gasping around Dean’s cock as if he finally realized just how ready Dean was.

“More,” he ordered, voice hoarse, and was rewarded with yet another finger. Not enough for the burn and stretch his body so desperately wanted, but enough for Cas to curls his fingers and hit that sweet spot. Dean moaned loud, shifting his hips, seeking out more.

“Shush, I’m going to take care of you Dean, I’m going to take such good care of you,” Cas promised him softly, gravel in his voice.

“I know alpha, you always do, take good care,” he babbled, hoping Castiel would take the cue to get his lips back on his cock.

Dean was not disappointed.

 

…

 

“Dean, I could worship your body all day and all night and still not have spent enough time looking at you, touching you.” His voice was sincere enough that Dean’s cheeks heated up. He felt like a horny blushing bride with the way his alpha kept looking at him. He’d done it throughout Dean’s entire heat and somehow it didn’t stop Dean from blushing yet again. Stupid hormones.

“Dammit, Cas, I swear to gods that if you don’t get your dick in me—!”

Cas didn’t respond to his threat, instead he continued placing small kisses all over Dean, slowly taking him apart with praise as he had promised he would do.

Dean straight up whimpered as Castiel’s lips grazed his neglected dick. “Please alpha.”

“Patience, Dean.”

Cas gently pried his legs from one another, kissing and nipping his way down Dean’s neck.

“I’m going to take you apart slowly, fuck you on your toys until you can’t see straight, until you beg for release.” It sounded like a promise, one that Dean was more than on board with.

Fingers were pushed into him without hesitation, his alpha familiar enough with his body now to know that Dean needed little prep when riding this high on his heat. He moaned, clenched around them, tried to show his alpha how nice and tight it would be if he were to fuck him instead of using a toy.

Soft huffs of breath turned into groans against his neck; it’d entirely had the effect Dean was hoping for. “Please alpha, need your cock, need you in me. Need you to breed me full.”

“Yes, yes,” Cas agreed as Dean scented him, drunk on the scent of horny alpha.

Two fingers turned into three, gently scissoring him open, prepping him for being filled. Dean needed it so bad, he needed Cas in him already, had needed it yesterday.

But Cas didn’t replace his two fingers with a warm cock, instead he slicked up one of Dean’s toys that had a pump-knot mechanism. Disappointment filled him for a few second until the toy met his prostate. He’d still take Cas’ cock over the toy at any time, but  _ fuck _ it felt good.

“You are so good, so beautiful, my omega.” Cas looked at him, sweat covering his brow. The blue in his eyes was just a small ring.

“Fuck me, alpha,” Dean whispered hoarsely.

Cas leaned over him as Dean closed his eyes, let himself imagine that it was Cas filling him up and not a toy. Soft lips kissed along his neck, teeth scraped against the sensitive points making him gasp. 

“Please Cas,” he whimpered, he wanted more, wanted teeth sinking down that sensitive flesh. It felt so right.  

 

 

His heat slowed down gradually. The need to be fucked and knotted gradually wound down to a point where he felt he could deal with it alone. Cas was there still, and fuck Dean was grateful even if it was embarrassing as fuck to have someone stuff sex toys up his ass.

It also left him with too much time to think between peaks. Dean could feel the fake knot whenever he or Cas moved. The alpha was spooning him from behind, soft huffs of breath against his neck slow and even. It felt so real. Could as well have been Cas buried in him. The thought shouldn’t fill Dean with want, but it did.

He was pretty sure they’d long ago surpassed what was normal for friendships and he had no idea what to do with that.

But to want something like that would require him to figure out what he felt, and he had no clue. He was glad Cas had been there and not left him to his own devices. It hadn’t been particularly pleasurable, but having the alpha there had made it bearable, even at the worst times.

He swallowed and curled closer into Castiel, not sure what else to do. Maybe he’d call Charlie and ask her. Until he was certain the smell of heat had left his system, he wasn’t going to stray from the apartment. Not even to visit Sam.

Cas murmured softly and hugged Dean close with the arm swung over his midsection.

It felt domestic and Dean fucking loved it. If he had the choice, he’d lie with Cas like this every night. Maybe preferably with a knot that wasn’t fake. 

 

When he tried to talk about the “breed me up” and “my omega” later, Castiel just shrugged at him. “It was in the heat of the moment, Dean, of course it doesn’t mean anything,” he’d said.

Dean didn’t know what he was supposed to feel, but disappointment probably wasn’t it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me posting on the day I decided to update.
> 
> Sorry. Dean is fucking stubborn to work with.

Dean couldn’t quite put a finger on what had changed between them two of them. Of course, spending a heat together would do  _ something _ . It was intimate, seeing one another completely naked, vulnerable and at their least coherent – and if that wasn’t going to change things, nothing was. The things they’d said… But Cas also seemed more affectionate and did things Dean had never anticipated an alpha to do, after. Cooked him his favorites for dinner, massaged his feet when they watched the evening news.

That was the job of the omega, wasn’t it?

It made him think a lot, wonder why Cas was acting so out of character. 

Along with the physical contact came the compliments. Cas had always tended to say nice things to him, but not in the way he’d started since Dean’s heat.

So, something had changed. He just couldn’t figure out what it was.

He’d booked another session with Charlie as soon as Cas promised him that no remanence of heat clung to his scent. Going out smelling like that just seemed like the most horrible idea even if out was down to the car accompanied by Cas and into Charlie’s office (probably also accompanied by Cas) and back home again. That was a challenge for another day.

 

“Hello Dean, please come in.” Her voice interrupted his thoughts. He couldn’t help but return her gentle smile.

“Hey,” he replied. Following her into the office, he once again couldn’t help but notice how much more sensitive his nose was since going off the suppressants. He’d always been able to scent her, but it was fresher now. Easier.

Her omega scent was thankfully just as calming as usual and he could only faintly pick out the upset and worry from the client before him.

“So how did everything go?”

She seemed way too cheerful for his taste. It was his sex life (or strictly speaking, lack thereof) they were talking about.

“Ugh. It went alright, okay? I can’t say I thought it was fun. If anything, it’s messy and annoying and humiliating.”

“But you are okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t have much choice now, do I? I got through it, didn’t die from embarrassment during or after even though it was a close call. Cas helped me.” Dean felt his cheeks burning at those words.

“Aha?” Charlie asked, brows raised and with a great amount of interest on her face. “And that went okay too?” 

“Yes, it did – we didn’t have sex, he just, he…” Dean mumbled, trying to explain with going into too much detail.

“He helped you out, yeah. I’m an omega, too, Dean. I’ve had my fair share of yucky heats. Nothing you’re going to say is going to change the way I view you or treat you. I’m merely asking because it sounded like you had a lot of concerns regarding asking him to help you in the first place, as well as setting down boundaries for the whole thing.”

Dean shrugged. “Not saying it was easy, Charlie, or that it didn’t suck ass. It just wasn’t quite as bad as I thought it would be…”

“And yet something about is troubling you.”

Mouth opening and closing like a fish on land, Dean tried to protest. Nothing troubled him, there’d been no problems, Cas had never strayed from the boundaries laid out beforehand.

The only thing was that maybe, just a tiny little part of Dean had wanted him to stray. Not just during the heat, but before it had even started. Maybe that feeling was still there afterwards. It’d felt so good and so right and that didn’t sit right with him. It just didn’t. He wasn’t a fag, he didn’t need to get something rammed up his ass to feel satisfied, not outside a heat anyway.

“Don’t know…he said some stuff, you know? During the heat? I just… I want…” Biting his lip he shook his head, unable to continue the sentence.

“What did he say?” Charlie’s voice was steady and gentle, and he wanted to tell her, he did. it was just like the words had stuck themselves somewhere halfway between his brain and his mouth and weren’t quite ready to come out.

“That he cared. That I was beautiful. Doing well. That he wants to spend every heat for the rest of my life with me. That he wished it was him and not a toy.” Dean swallowed hard before continuing. “I think that, maybe, maybe I want some of that to be real? I don’t… fuck, I hate the thought of him introducing me to someone else who is his boyfriend or mate or whatever. I just, I’m so confused, Charlie. He called me his omega… Fuck, I asked him to breed me for crying out loud.” He hid his eyes by rubbing his brows, too embarrassed to even consider looking at his therapist.  

“What about this is confusing you?”

“Everything,” he mumbled, giving a loose thread around his knee a lot of attention. “I’m not… like other omegas? I don’t want a dick up my ass outside a heat. I’m not a fag, Charlie. I shouldn’t want an alpha’s affection or attention, shouldn’t feel like I  _ need _ it. It’s wrong and unnatural.”

Charlie just  _ looked  _ at him.

“I, fuck… I don’t know, okay? It doesn’t freak me out that Cas has disclosed that he prefers men, secondary gender designation be damned. But it freaks me out if I want to have that, to be with a man. I should’ve been an alpha and I should like nice omega ladies. I should at the least do the last one right.”

Charlie sighed, running a hand through her shiny, red hair. “Dean, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with preferring men or women or a specific designation. Nothing about that is wrong or unnatural or something anybody should judge you for.”

“But they will. And god, this is going to come out so wrong, but I don’t want to be a weak ass omega bitch, Charlie,” he tried to tell her, desperate for her to understand. It took him a moment to realize how shitty it sounded, but before he got to apologize she said:

“Sounds to me like you are afraid,.” Her voice slow and gentle as if he was indeed a scared animal. “I think you’ve been told a lot of shit to be frank with you. From our sessions, I can gather that your father has been rather traditional and that he put a lot of pressure on you to act a certain way.”

Swallowing, Dean nodded. It was reluctant, it was slow and the need to defend his father was burning in him. But throughout their sessions, he’d slowly come to realize his idolization of his father and his father’s words wasn’t always the best thing for him.

Maybe he had to take a step back and figure things out for himself instead of listening to the ghosts of his past.

It’d been a process, starting from the first session and continuing even now. Dean had lost count with how many times he had seen Charlie by this point. Even he could see there was progress. He’d slowly reached a point where he could agree, maybe his dad hadn’t been right about everything.

“What I’m trying to teach you is that no one holds the truth over you. What you enjoy and what you want or do not want is ultimately your choice. If you enjoy being with Cas, whether as a friend or a partner, why shouldn’t you?”

Dean had no good explanation. He shrugged and smiled apologetically, knowing that her words would dance around his brain for a long while.

Cas greeted him in the waiting room with one of his breathtaking, warm hugs. Dean hadn’t been much of a hugger until Cas had started it.

“Do you always hug your friends this much?” he asked, voice muffled by Cas’ collar.

“No, not usually,” the alpha replied.

“Hm,” Dean replied intelligently. He didn’t know why he’d asked the question in the first place, didn’t quite know what he’d expected the answer to be.

They walked to the car in silence. As always, the session had taken its toll on him, and Cas didn’t seem to mind that he mostly stayed quiet on their ride home.

He found himself interrupting the silence halfway home. “Would you mind if I asked Bobby if I could bring your fugly excuse of a car to the shop and give it an oil change and stuff?” 

“No, I would appreciate that,” hummed Cas.

Dean wasn’t sure Cas appreciated Dean calling the car fugly though.

But he’d noticed a lot of squeaking and sounds from the motor that didn’t sound too healthy. He didn’t want Cas to drive around in something that risked exploding.

He wasn’t Cas’ omega, but he could still care about his friend. Nothing wrong with that.

 

For the first time in weeks, he texted Bobby, asking if it was okay to stop by the garage on the weekend or something with a friend to fix their car. He’d pay for the materials and stuff, of course.

Bobby texted him back within a minute, saying Dean was welcome at all times.

Not liking how emotional that made him feel, Dean sent back that he would stop by not too late Saturday with the car.

Hesitating, he sat with his phone in hand, looking at the screen. At some point he had to tell Bobby that he was doing better, that he was ready to start working again maybe.

He still had to tell the guys that he was an omega. Scent blockers could only do so much against physical labor, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he’d sweat through them or work on a day close to a heat.

Maybe Bobby could talk with them. Maybe he had a good idea on how to tell them.

Dean had no clue how they would react. As far as they knew, he was a beta. He’d smelled like a beta, acted like one.

It was just that he didn’t quite felt ready to burst that bubble and make it semi-publicly known that he was one of the few male omegas in town.

Swallowing, he put down the phone. He could deal with that on Saturday or possibly even later, depending on whether Bobby thought him ready to go back to work.

 

…

 

Saturday rolled around, both too quickly and not fast enough for Dean’s liking. He felt like a giddy child, unable to sit still in the passenger seat as they drove to Bobby’s.

“Still don’t get why you don’t get a decent car,” he told Cas on their way.

“It’s economical and I like it.”

“Not very alpha-like, though, is it?” he asked.

Cas shrugged, obviously indifferent to that. “If people are going to judge me based on my car or my gender, I doubt they are people I want anything to do with either way.”

“I judge you by your car.”

Cas laughed. “No, you tease me about my car. There is a difference.”

“It’s still ugly,” Dean told him.

“So I’ve been told,” the alpha agreed.

“Left here.”

Even the blinker sounded off in his ears. There was probably nothing wrong with it, but he was going to check it nevertheless along with basically everything else.

As far as he knew, Cas took his car in for yearly services and all that, but other than that, nothing was ever done. Since squeaking doors weren’t a danger and Cas probably didn’t notice, Dean doubted anything ever would ever be done about it if he didn’t.

It felt weird driving into his workplace, having not been there for a long ass while. He’d considered Bobby’s offer, sometimes, to come visit. But it’d stayed inside his head—he hadn’t managed to do it.

“Just stop here,” he said, his voice sounding off even in his own ears.

His heart was pounding against his ribcage.

“If you don’t feel like it, we can turn around. There is no shame in needing a bit more time,” Cas told him softly.

“Yeah. Yeah, but I’ve already texted Bobby and heck, your car needs a bit of love.”

Besides, he’d put it off for long enough. And if he wasn’t even ready to face Bobby alone, how would things go down when the guys were there? Licking his lips nervously, he got out of the Prius. He could see Bobby in the window, waiting for them. Dean couldn’t turn around.

Didn’t mean he had to like it either.

It took him a few deep breaths before he felt comfortable enough to knock on the door into the main house.

Bobby greeted him with a manly slap-on-the-shoulder hug.

“Let’s get some coffee, what d’ya say?”

“Sure,” he agreed, waving for Castiel to follow. The alpha slowly stepped closer, wary in a way Dean had never seen him before.

“This is Castiel, my roommate. With a banged up ugly Prius,” Dean introduced Cas. “And Cas, this is Bobby, my boss and… uncle?”

Bobby had for years been more of a father than John had, but it didn’t mean he was cool with having that role, nor did it mean that Dean wanted to put it on him.

They talked for a hell of a lot longer than Dean had wanted to. Of course, Bobby had sniffed out that he was off his suppressants right away and asked about what was going on. The omega scent was clinging to him like he’d been drenched in syrup. He didn’t like it, but he’d gotten somewhat used to it. Scent blockers only did so much when they stood alone. Or maybe it was because Bobby had known him since he was no higher than the hood of the impala and knew how he smelled on and off suppressants.

“You seem, I don’t know, different somehow,” Bobby told him in a moment where Cas had excused himself to the bathroom.

Dean shrugged. “I’m seeing a therapist. I’m off suppressants and I’m living with an alpha. Hadn’t thought any of that would happen to me, ever.”

Bobby nodded, taking a gulp of his coffee with a thoughtful look on his face. “Seems like it’s turning out to be a good thing.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed softly as the door to the bathroom creaked open and the alpha re-entered the room. Cas send him a soft smile.

“Heck, how about getting this show on the road and fix that damned car?” Dean suggested as Cas kept sending him curious looks.

 

…

 

“I don’t think my car has ever purred this much,” Cas told him as they drove back home.

“Cars like that don’t purr,” Dean told him with an eyeroll.

“Yeah they do. Try listening. There are no strange sounds anymore, the blinker doesn’t tick too fast and there is no clatter when we go over speedbumps, and the motor just straight up purrs.”

Dean laughed.

“You are a great mechanic. Sounded to me like Bobby has missed having you in the garage as well.”

“Mhm, they are down a man. They need me, since he refuses to replace me,” he replied.

“I think there was more to it than that,” Cas continued with a soft sigh. “He cares about you, Dean, it’s obvious. And from what he said it sounds like the other people at the garage are asking about you, too.”

“Probably. Curious bastards.”

Cas swallowed loudly beside him. “Dean, that has very little to do with caring and worrying about a person.”

Dean didn’t bother answering, shrugging instead to end the discussion.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for people being serious dicks in this chapter. There is a bit more in the end note if you are worried.

It wasn’t easy starting up again part time. The guys didn’t treat him any different, thankfully, but some of the customers did. One had made a big scene about how no omega bitch should touch his car. Garth had stared him down until Bobby, hearing the fight, came down from the office to tell the alpha off. Dean hadn’t quite been able to calm down, and Cas had cancelled a class to pick him up and get him back home.

He mostly stayed away from public places, and the longest stretch of road he walked was from the apartment building down to where Baby was parked.

Things weren’t easy, but they were a little bit better. Dean got out for something other than therapy, he had two days a week where he was needed somewhere. It was okay.

Cas however became more and more of a pain in the ass. He kept asking Dean to join him for grocery shopping, bribing him with promises of pie and food to meet up somewhere in the city. Sometimes twice a day. And Dean was just about fed up with it. Working two days a week and seeing Charlie once seemed to use up most of his energy, leaving him socially exhausted. It was just, Cas was so enthusiastic about it, smelling like rainbows and flowers when Dean said he would think about it. He looked like a kicked puppy whenever Dean refused outright, so he rarely did.

Maybe the alpha thought that being able to work a bit meant that Dean was ready to go out more in general.

“Do you feel like going shopping?” Cas asked, just as Dean closed the laptop on his thighs. He didn’t, he just also didn’t quite know how to say exactly that. 

Hesitating a bit too long, Dean slowly told Cas that no, he didn’t feel like it.

He watched as the alpha’s happy smile was slowly replaced with something sad, something hurt. Like it was making him sad that Dean didn’t feel like shopping. Which was stupid—no one fucking felt like shopping.

Least of all Dean.

But Cas kept looking at him like Dean would change his mind if he was just stared at long enough with enough puppy-eye-force. Where he’d before thought himself immune to puppy eyes after having lived with Sam, it turned out that maybe he wasn’t.

Swallowing, Dean turned his gaze away.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel like it,” he tried.

Cas just sighed softly, and Dean knew what that meant. He was a disappointment again. Somehow not wanting to buy groceries had made him that. Somehow Cas’ constant bugging of him meant that he suddenly wasn’t good enough. He’d always been good enough for the alpha, Cas just generally accepting him and not pushing too much. The change was annoying, and Dean was tired and fed up.

The anger burning within was a surprise to him too, when he turned his head.

“Why do you even care? Why do you keep bugging me to go out? I DON’T WANT TO!” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but there he was, too angry to give a shit. “I seriously don’t understand why you have taken such an interest in getting me out, dammit! I don’t want to go! I could order groceries of the internet if you’d let me!”

Cas looked at him, wide eyed and confused. His scent had changed too, but Dean wasn’t quite able to figure out what that meant.

“I didn’t, I’m sorry Dean. I just merely meant to engage you in things you have voiced interest in doing before.”

“Stop doing that! Don’t try to put this on me, I haven’t voiced interest in fucking groceries!” Dean growled back, the anger burning inside like acid through his veins.

“I just thought that…”

“You know what, Cas?” Dean interrupted. “You think way too much about me and about what I maybe should and shouldn’t do. I was okay before I met you and I can do without you! I’m not some helpless pup you need to scrape of the road and nurse back to health! I do fine on my own!”

“I just wanted to help, Dean.” The alpha shrugged helplessly, looking so utterly lost. “I thought it would make you happy that I asked you to join me for coffee or pie somewhere.”

“Well, it doesn’t! It makes me feel pressured into doing shit I don’t want to do! It makes me feel like I’m letting you down, like all I do is take care of me! I just don’t get it man, I just really don’t fucking understand how you give so many shits about me. I’m a pain in the ass, I’m a mess and you just keep being here and keep being patient and keep inviting me even though I let you down, time after time.”

“You do not let me down, Dean. I’m here because I want to be.”

It didn’t help matter that Cas was standing there, so sure of himself like he was telling the truth. At some point he had to grow tired of Dean, tired of always being patient and the good guy.

It didn’t help that he sounded like he  _ meant it _ . He wasn’t supposed to.

He was supposed to leave, like everyone else had left.

Like Dean deserved.

“No you don’t. You just don’t know better because I’m an omega and you’re an alpha and your instincts tell you to care,” he snarled.

“I cared before I knew you were an omega,” Cas argued.

“You are fucking sick. There is seriously something wrong with you if you want to live with me!”

Cas shook his head softly. “There is nothing wrong with me, Dean, nor with my judge of character or what I feel. I care about you because you are a good man, someone worth caring about. I get that you cannot see that, not yet, but I want you to. I have no greater wish than for you to see you like everyone else does.”

“Like a fucking freak?” Dean’s voice was shaking with anger and he kept his hand closed, trained down his sides.

“You are not a freak,” Cas gently said. Dean didn’t believe him, not for one second. No matter how much he wanted the alpha to be right.

“You seriously cannot say that! I’m a fucking male omega! I can’t sleep alone at night, I need to see a therapist just to barely function and I’m still a mess! I’m a freak and you know it just as much as I do, no matter if you want to admit it or not!”

“You shouldn’t put yourself down like that, Dean. There is no shame in being what you are, no shame in needing therapy or other people. You are human, not a freak.”

“SHUT UP!” Dean yelled. He didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to admit how badly he wanted to hear Castiel’s words. It was weak and pathetic, needing an alpha’s approval. John had been right about him all along. He was just a weak omega bitch, wrong, a freak, an abomination of nature gone wrong.

He shouldn’t exist. Space he took up was wasted. Oxygen he used to stay alive would do better in the lungs of someone else.

He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud.

Hadn’t realized how his arms curled around his head like he expected Cas to hit him or yell at him. How badly he wanted to hide himself from the blue eyes staring into his soul.

Fuck.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, once, twice, Dean shook his head. “I just don’t get it. Why the fuck do you even care?”

Cas hesitated for too long, long enough that Dean started to fear he would say he didn’t, that he’d already packed his stuff. That Dean was too much trouble to live with.

The answer was way worse.

Cas swallowed audibly, eyes darting from side to side like he couldn’t bear to watch Dean. Like he too was afraid.

“I care because I’m in love with you.”

“No, no!” Dean shrieked, pushing himself as far away from Castiel as the sofa allowed him to. Fear welled up, replacing the anger faster than he could move. Cas couldn’t, shouldn’t be. It wasn’t true. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. It was a dream, a nightmare. It couldn’t be. “You can’t be, you shouldn’t! Didn’t you hear a thing I just said? I’m not worth it, I’ll get you fucking killed! Stay away!”

It sounded too much like pleas, not enough substance behind the words. Dean hated how pathetic it came out, hated that he couldn’t be strong like he needed to, tell Cas off like he was supposed to do.

Hated that he couldn’t tell his best friend what he really felt.

Instead of waiting for Castiel’s reply, Dean did what he did best and fled the room, running towards the kitchen as fast as he could. He didn’t want to hear Cas reassure him of worthiness, didn’t need to hear words that meant nothing when Dean was under no circumstances ready to tell Cas what he really wanted to hear.

Swallowing down his emotions, he grabbed the keys to the impala.

He could hear Castiel’s cries, hear his plea to come back as Dean ran down the stairs, heart beating like it wanted to break free of his ribcage.

He had to get away. Had to.

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

It wasn’t true.

He was shaking so bad it took three tries to get a grip on the car door strong enough to get it open. He refused to count how many tries it took before he could turn the key, start the motor.

The familiar rumble did nothing to calm him.

Swallowing heavily, he put her in gear. He had to get away. It was just… Dean shook his head before turning the key, killing the ignition. He wasn’t fit to drive, he wasn’t fit to do anything. Either he would get himself killed, or do exactly what he’d told Cas and kill someone else.

Forehead against the wheel he tried to breathe calmly, tried to get his heart rate under control. Tried to make the tears go back somewhere deep inside instead of down his face and neck.

“FUCK!” he exclaimed, angry at himself, angry at Cas. Why couldn’t the stupid alpha keep his mouth shut? Why had he chosen that time to tell Dean?

His phone vibrated in his pocket. In slow-motion, he fished it out, watching Sam’s name on the screen. He stared at the screen for a long while, wondering what his little brother wanted to talk about. They didn’t call as much as they texted.

The phone stopped vibrating as he watched it, as he tried to decide on whether or not to pick it up. The car stunk like unhappy omega, something so sour and bitter that Dean considered rolling down the windows.

He had no idea how Cas dealt with it.

Cas.

Cas who was in love with him.

Swallowing, Dean stared at the black phone screen again, like it held answers to how he felt. He was torn between calling his brother back, driving off and running back into the apartment to tell Cas that he too felt something.

It was just…

Cas deserved better. Cas deserved someone who was ready to put him first, who could give him everything. Someone not so broken and stupid and who wouldn’t run off at the first sign of a trouble.

Maybe just someone who wasn’t Dean.

He placed the phone screen-down on the passenger seat, turning the car back on just for the sake of listening to the familiar sound of the impala.

Fuck.

Without thinking, Dean drove off, letting the car run down familiar roads to Sam’s place. Since he’d called, he probably suspected Dean was coming over anyway. Maybe. Maybe Dean would just turn out to be an inconvenience, again.

Not much to do about that, since the loud vibrations from the passenger seat told him that Sam had tried calling him again. Mindlessly he parked the impala and took the stairs to Sam’s apartment, foregoing the elevator. He needed to move. Otherwise he might turn around.

 

“You got me so worried man, don’t ever do that again!”

Dean wheezed, too out of breath to answer.

Sam sat him down with a cup of coffee, looking at him in a way Dean didn’t quite knew what to think about. It was like the roles had reversed, like Sam had suddenly turned into the parent, the big brother, and that he didn’t like one bit.

“Castiel called me,” Sam started as it became obvious Dean wasn’t going to initiate the conversation.

“He has your number?” he asked, baffled.

“Yeah, ‘cause he had to help me with an assignment and it was easier just calling whenever I needed help. And that’s completely irrelevant. He was worried, said you’d taken off like you’d seen the devil or something.”

“Did he tell you why?” Dean asked, feeling himself pale. The warmth from the coffee cup seemed like the only thing keeping him there.

“No.”

Sighing slowly, Dean said, “He told me he’s in love with me, Sammy.”

Sam frowned at that, like he didn’t quite understand.

“So, I ran,” he elaborated as calm as could be, hoping his brother wouldn’t notice the shake of his voice or how he held the coffee cup to calm himself. His response wasn’t sensible, it wasn’t the adult thing to do. He knew that. But what else could he have done? Cas had wanted a specific answer, and Dean couldn’t, wouldn’t give him that.

“But Dean, that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Yeah, yeah it does. I freaked, okay? I’ve never had someone say shit like that to me. What else what I supposed to do?”

“Maybe tell him that you’re in love with him, too?” Sam suggested, head cocked ever so slightly. If he hadn’t looked so serious, Dean would’ve thought he was joking.

Only it was clear as crystal that Sam wasn’t.

“I’m… I’m not, Sammy?”

His brother just lifted a brow and looked at him like  _ that _ answered anything. Clenching his teeth, Dean stared back, angry that Sam didn’t get it, that he couldn’t understand.

“Dean, I know you better than anyone. I’ve watched you fall in and out of love since you where a kid, flirt like your life depended on it. And I know stuff back with Aaron scared the living shit out of you, that dad was an asshole about it all. But it really shouldn’t stop you from being with Cas, or anyone else who make you happy,” Sam started. When Dean started to protest, his brother simply lifted a hand to silence him. “I know about Aaron, okay? It was kinda obvious back then. I know I might’ve been acting like a homophobic asshole as well. I’m sorry, okay? But the thing is, that it ain’t wrong, no matter who you want to be with.”

Dean tried to fight down the storm of conflicting emotions, tried to swallow so his voice wouldn’t sound off, wouldn’t give away what he felt.

“But Sam, dad always…”

“Screw what dad said or did Dean. He was an asshole about it all. I’ve got no clue why, I frankly don’t care much at this point. He is dead. He shouldn’t hold this much power over you. You are a grown man Dean, you decide who makes you happy, whether that’s Cas or some random lady from the supermarket. I don’t care, all I care about is seeing you happy for once in your life!” Hazel eyes were filling with tears rapidly.

Dean hated seeing his baby brother like this.

“I don’t know, Sam, I’m just, I’m so lost, okay? I wanna, I want…” he shook his head, unable to figure out where he wanted that sentence to end or begin.

“I like Cas, okay? I like him as a friend, I like having him around. He’s been a great support and I just… I don’t know, okay? I’m confused, I fucking swore I would never be with an alpha, and here I am, being a good omega bitch like dad always said I’d be. I  _ want _ to be that. Fuck, I want to be with Cas. And I let him think that I didn’t, I ran away like a fucking coward.”

“You are not someone’s bitch because you decide you would like to be with an alpha, Dean. There is no shame in alpha-omega relationships. That’s bullshit and bigoted and some grade A shit.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m submitting to basic, biological needs,” Dean grumbled, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“And so am I because I want to live around other people and not alone. So am I when I date a girl I like. It’s not bad Dean, it’s not wrong. As long as your sole reason for dating Cas isn’t that you are an omega and he is an alpha, there is nothing wrong with it whatsoever.” Sam sighed softly. “Maybe you shouldn’t let dad’s words affect you so much. I don’t think he ever meant it like that. He worried about you, didn’t want you to get hurt or end up like another unhappy teenage-pregnancy case.”

“He had a shit way of showing it,” Dean grumbled back, moving his hands back around the coffee cup, staring at the lukewarm black liquid like it held answers.

Sam nodded in agreement.

The coffee cup didn’t really help.

“There’ll still be people like dad out there. Who think I’m wrong and I’m a freak and a bitch if I let some alpha claim me.” His finger slowly drew circles on the porcelain. 

“Those people will be against anything you do, Dean. If you chose to be with another omega they would hate you for that, or if you chose to be alone. You can’t let other people run your life of make the decision for you. You have to do what makes you happy and not care too much about the rest of the world,” Sam argued. He sounded so reasonable.

“Alphas have generally just been assholes all my life. There’s a part of me that’s terrified that if I pursue this, if I turn into a willing omega, Cas will change, too, turn into an asshole.” It wasn’t an easy confession to make. Dean had managed to hide what’d been going on as a teen most of the time. He’d cried at night when no one was home, had worn long sleeves to hide blue marks if alphas had grabbed him too hard on the streets.  

He’d insisted on not going shopping with Sam, not wanting his kid brother to see the ugly side of the world.

Sam licked his lips, sucking it in as his eyes turned thoughtful.

Dean wondered when his brother had turned so grown up. He was still mostly a big kid to look at, but sitting there in front of Dean, he acted so mature.

Part of him hated it. Hated how Sam couldn’t just be a happy college kid with no worries besides exams. How he had to take care of Dean. It wasn’t his job. Dean was the one who had to look out for Sam, not the other way around.

“I know omega hate and harassment was a big problem a few years back and that it still can be around the world. And I know you had more than your share of it. I know you tried to hide it, but heck Dean, our house had paper-thin walls. I knew stuff was going on with you, I just didn’t know what to do about it. After your first heat, things kinda changed between us. It was like… like I wasn’t welcome in your room the same way? You were there when I had nightmares or were upset, but you didn’t allow me to comfort you. I know I was just a stupid kid, that I still am, but I knew, okay? I knew you were being hurt, I know that you still are.” Sam rubbed a hand through his hair like he was frustrated.

“But Cas is not the one doing the harm. He is the one wanting to protect you from it. And don’t give me shit about omegas not needing protection from alphas, I damned well know you could beat most of them up yourself. But is it really that wrong to want someone to take care of you?”

Shrugging like that was an answer, Dean lifted the cold coffee to his lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid. His face scrunched up in disgust. Not a clever way to push off giving an answer for a moment or two. He could really do with a fresh cup.

“Dunno, Sammy. I really don’t have a clue. I know alphas tend to screw me over and treat me like shit. I know a shit-ton of people who will see me as less, see me as weak, once they know I’m an omega.”

“Doesn’t mean that Cas will,” Sam pointed out cleverly.

“No, I know he doesn’t. But I keep expecting him to change his mind.” 

“I can’t force you to do anything and I wouldn’t if I could. But Dean, Cas has done nothing but treat you right and make you happier and help you move forward. I haven’t ever had a talk like this with you before. I’ve never seen you admitting to having emotions or dealing with them like this before. I know Cas is good for you, because I can see it. And I want you to know that whatever you decide, whatever you want, is okay with me. As long as you don’t make the decision based on what other people have said to you.” Sam sighed softly, lips thin. “I just want you to be happy and I don’t think other people’s opinion on you or your relationship should dictate who helps you get there.”

Dean closed his eyes, breathing out heavily. He needed to get back home, needed to talk to Cas. Maybe today wasn’t the day where he admitted that he too, had some feelings. But it could be the day where he admitted that maybe, it was okay if he did.

“I know. Thank you. I have your back too, if it ever comes down to that,” he said, slowly getting up to leave the cold coffee and his brother. “I need to get home.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam agreed. “Text me.”

Dean nodded, knowing his brother asked for an update, asked to be kept in the loop of everything.

“I will.”

 

Driving home he was a wreck, heart hammering in his chest. As it turned out it was for nothing, the apartment entirely empty as he entered it.

Panicked Dean ran to Cas’ room. All the books were still there, nicely on their shelves.  _ He hasn’t left, alright? If he had, he would’ve taken his books with him. That’s for sure, _ Dean assured himself.

Going back into the kitchen, he found a note that stated that Cas had needed to get some air too and was at Gabe’s. That Dean could text him whenever he was ready to talk.

Swallowing, he put down the note. He’d wanted to talk, but now that Cas wasn’t there he wasn’t quite sure he had the courage to send that text. To ask for that conversation.

Dean went alone to bed that night.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever dreamt about Cas getting killed before. But that night his best friend died in ways he wouldn’t ever have imagined if awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual harrasment of Dean after he returns to work, as well as Dean reacting really, really badly to something Cas says. I think it might be really clear exactly how deep his issues with sexuality and gender goes here.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some may have noticed: The chapter number has gone one up, and that's because I've written ya all a fluffy little epilogue to enjoy after all these feels. 
> 
> Warnings for more of John's shitty parenting (no, I'm really not a fan of this dude in case you haven't already guessed)

Waking up too early and not knowing what to do, Dean threw himself into cleaning. He wasn’t putting off talking to Cas, he just wasn’t quite ready either. Without the momentum from having just talked to Sam, he didn’t know what to say. Instead of calling Cas, he washed down the bathroom, decalcified the tiles and shower head. He washed the windows, vacuumed all the rooms and sorted through his closet.

It didn’t take much time, it didn’t fill his head like he had wanted it to. Didn’t distract him like he wanted to be distracted. He wanted to put off talking to Cas, hoping that time would give him an answer as to what he wanted to say.

He’d hoped cleaning would make him able to sort through the mess in his head, maybe getting an order in physical stuff would serve as the way to neat his brain.

It just didn’t.

 

Around 2 pm, Dean gave in to the nagging feeling in his chest, unable to stave it off with caffeine and cleaning.

_ I’m ready to talk _ , he wrote to Cas.

He wasn’t. But maybe he would be once Cas entered the door. Maybe by that time, he’d know what he felt, maybe he could make his tongue work, get the words out.

He’d almost told it to Sam, nearly succeeded.

Cas’ text back just stated that he’d be home soon.

What was ‘soon’? Probably not soon enough, probably way too close. Dean still didn’t know what he wanted to say, still didn’t have a clue what to do.

He had to apologize for his horrible and childish behavior, that was for sure. Even if he hadn’t been interested in Cas, running out like that was in no way acceptable. John would’ve smacked him for it. But John also would’ve thought him weak and a fag for hoping that Cas was telling the truth, for wanting that.

And maybe Dean was a fag. But if his sessions with Charlie had taught him anything, it was that he wasn’t weak. That he deserved to feel better, to do better than he was.

So what if liking Cas made him gay. That wasn’t something bad. He knew openly gay people, and they weren’t horrible people, just like they weren’t whores or wrong in any way. Why should those negative things apply to him if they didn’t to others?

Dean ran a hand through his hair and decided on a shower. He smelled like chemicals and acidic citrus cleaning products.

It was too close to the bitter-sour way his scent turned when he was upset.

 

After a quick shower, Dean looked at his scent blockers. It would make it easier on him, if he knew Cas couldn’t scent his emotions as clearly, but didn’t the alpha deserve to be able to do so for once? Dean didn’t have anything to hide, not from Cas. If anything, he wanted him able to smell that Dean was serious, that there was nothing Dean was trying to hide.

Didn’t mean he was entirely comfortable, but he could deal with that. Fuck it, he’d dealt with way worse.

The doorbell rang before he finished, and he hurried to put on a tee while scrambling to open the door, glad that he’d put on pants before losing time discussing scent blockers with himself.

“You don’t need to ring the bell, Cas. It’s your home too,” he said, opening the door entirely.

“I know.”

Closing the door behind Cas, Dean had nowhere to put his hands.

“Imma make us some coffee,” he mumbled before shuffling out into the kitchen, barefoot and terrified that he was about to screw up everything.

Cas followed.

Dean could feel his eyes resting on him while making their usual coffee, a splash of cream into Cas’ and a hint of sugar in his own.

“I screwed up yesterday,” he started before they had gotten comfortable around the dining table. He still had his back to Cas, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Hesitantly, Dean turned around and handed Cas his cup. “I screwed up real bad, and I know that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like that. But I freaked out, so I ran. That’s not fair. And I’m fucking sorry.”

Cas nodded slowly as he grabbed the mug with cream in, blue eyes locked on Dean. He couldn’t read them, couldn’t quite figure out the emotions they hid.

“I, fuck, I don’t know how to say this, okay? I care about you too. You are my freaking best friend, I’ve never had someone like you, never cared about someone like I care about you. And that’s some scary shit, right there. I wanna do better, wanna be able to tell you what I feel and shit, but I’m not good with it,” he sighed frustrated, looking for any reaction. “I… I’m attracted to you, okay? I like you. A lot. And that terrifies me more than anything.”

The cold mask fell before him, hurt, anger, hope and something that could only be the purest version of happiness cracking Cas’ face. Then he turned back to stone, back to the Castiel Dean didn’t know, couldn’t read. A Cas that felt it necessary to hide himself from Dean.

“Then why did you run?”

“’cause I freaked out. I didn’t mean to, but… fuck, dad did a number on me, okay? I had a boyfriend back when I was like, 15 or something. He was a late bloomer and I’d known for years I was an omega. Dad found us fooling around and he just freaked. Kicked Aaron out of the house even though it was late in the evening and we’d agreed he could sleep over, and he yelled all kinds of shit at me. He told me all kinds of horrible stuff. Had it just been that evening, I think I could have dealt with it. But it wasn’t. He kept coming back to it, kept reminding me I was nothing more than a weak bitch and a whole for someone to knot. That I should find a girl instead, someone I could impregnate once we were a bit older. Do shit the way nature intended.”

Dean swirled the spoon around the coffee, watching the movement of the black liquid, hoping Cas would somehow understand.

“And with him being dead and gone, dead because he was  _ protecting  _ me, I just find it difficult to go against that. I feel like I’m somehow letting him down, like I should stick with girls, so he didn’t die just for me to turn fag or something. I know it doesn’t make much sense, but I’m exhausted and confused. All I really know is that losing you is terrifying me more than letting him down. I want you to stick around. I want to be the omega you come back home to, the one you brag about to your coworkers or something. And maybe that makes me one hell of a disappointment, but I think it might make me damned happy as well. If you want me, that is.”

Dean couldn’t blame Cas if he didn’t, if he felt like backing out. He’d be hurt for sure, but god or whoever knew that he’d caused more than enough trouble, more than he was worth.

Cas was quiet for too long.

“I know it isn’t easy to stand up to your family, and it probably complicates it even more that he’s dead. But being dead doesn’t mean he was right or should be put on a pedestal,” Cas slowly said. “I’m not going to force you to make a decision or to do anything you are not comfortable with. But I also won’t break myself into pieces waiting for you, if you doubt you are ever going to be okay with this.” He gestured between them. Dean licked his lips nervously.

“I’m here for you now, and I always will be, as a friend. But at some point I might need to know if you can ever see us becoming more than that, or if I have to settle my heart. I want to have you as mine, I want to come home to you every day, Dean. But none of what you just said has given me confidence that you are willing to be mine entirely.”

“I… it’s a lot to ask.”

“I know, and I’m not expecting an answer right now, or even tomorrow, Dean. But I need one at some point. I need to know if I should keep my hopes up or if you are going to break my heart at some point. I can only take so much,” Cas told him gently. “I get that you want this too, want us to be a thing. But that was never really the question, was it? I can’t have you running away every time I tell you how I feel or how much I care. I can’t watch you turn to hating yourself because you want to be with a man. I know it’s a process, I know it’s a shitty one, too. I just don’t know if you are ready to take that fight.”  _ For me _ hung unsaid in the room.

Dean didn’t know what to answer, didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell Cas that of course he was, that he was more than willing to sacrifice anything and everything for him, and it was close to the truth, but not quite there. Because Dean knew there were things that would make him run again, make him so bone-deep terrified that he couldn’t be the man Castiel deserved.

“I want to try,” he said, voice steady. “I want to give it everything I have to make it work.”

Cas didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not saying this is easy. It sucks big time. There’s a part of me that’s yelling right now, yelling that I should stop right here, tell you off, but I  _ can’t _ ‘cause I care about you. I want you here, I want you in my bed, in my kitchen. I want lazy morning cuddles and I want to spend my next heat with you, because god knows I couldn’t have made it without you.”

He took a deep steadying breath. “I need you.”

“I know, Dean. I need you too.” Castiel’s voice was too soft, too shaky.  

He’d wanted to tell Cas that he was in love with him too, that Sam had been right about that and that their dad was a fucking idiot for telling him that being with a man was wrong. Dean had wanted to pour out his heart, to let Cas know everything.

He just wasn’t quite ready.

“What does this mean? Does it change the way we are around one another?” he asked, wondering what he was ready for.

“It doesn’t have to change anything yet,” Cas assured him gently.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but there is one thing I want to change,” Dean stated, waiting for Cas to nod before continuing. “I want us to be exclusive until we figure out what ‘us’ means. I don’t think I could take it if you came home smelling like sex and someone else.”

Cas gave him a smile, but it was a sad thing. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, Dean. Haven’t wanted that for a long while.”

Part of Dean was howling with triumph, part of him was upset with that statement. How long had Cas suppressed his emotions? How long had he just waited patiently, giving Dean space to deal with how he felt? Too long was the answer to that, for sure.

“I want this to work out,” Dean said. That much he was certain of, that much he dared promise Castiel. “I’ll do my best to not screw up.”

The smile on Cas’ face grew a bit more genuine. Not quite there, but it was closer. It looked better.

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Dean nodded slowly, wondering if that was the truth.

“You really mean this. You really want this. Me, with all me problems, my past and my shitfucked mind,” Dean looked up at Cas while talking, wanting to make sure he’d understood everything right. That Cas hadn’t changed his mind in the past few seconds of silent coffee-sipping and thinking.

“Yes.”

Dean looked at his best friend, scented him, searched for clues that he could be lying, that what he said wasn’t the truth.

He found none.

“I’m pretty sure you must be some kind of stupid, then,” he told Cas, voice hoarse with emotion. There was no doubt in his mind that Castiel had to be stupid if he was willing to stick around.

The alpha snorted. “I think your view of yourself is very much colored by how your dad thought about things. If you could see things the way I do, you wouldn’t think so lowly of yourself.” The words were harsh, but the soft tone, the way his blue eyes shone with emotions softened them.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Cas just continued to smile at him.

 

…

 

He needed another session with Charlie. There were a shit-ton of problems he had to face, a shit ton of stuff he had to go through faster than either of them had anticipated. Sure, his internalized homophobia and his upbringing had been on their list of topics to work through, but it hadn’t been their highest priority.

But Dean wanted it to be, now. He wanted to be able to tell Cas that he was in love too, wanted to kiss Cas. He wanted what they’d shared in his heat to be real, and not just words muttered out when both were so high and caught up in the moment it almost didn’t matter afterwards. Except, Dean now realized Cas had meant it. What he’d said back then had been the truth, and Dean had been too blind to see it.

 

Dean couldn’t quite figure out what Charlie thought. He’d told her what had been going on between him and Cas, had told her about their talk afterwards, about him wanting to overcome the barrier in his mind that held him back so badly.

That he’d finally realized he could care for an alpha. Maybe wanting to have one didn’t make him a weak bitch wanting to spread his legs for the first knot.

“Dean, I’m ridiculously proud that you’ve come this far in such a short amount of time,” she said, looking down at her notepad. “But I’m afraid therapy isn’t magic. God knows I would love it to be—I would like to snap my fingers and make it where you can work, make your mind easier to navigate, your emotions something you know how to handle and make the horrors of your childhood go away – but I can’t. I know you’re going to work hard on this, but it might take longer than you want it to do.”

“It can’t,” he told her. “I can’t ask Cas to wait around for forever. I don’t want to ask him that.”

“I know, Dean. But these are deep-rooted issues and rushing won’t help you get over them. It takes the time it takes. I’m not saying it won’t get better fast, I’m just saying that maybe it won’t, and you need to prepare yourself for that as well. And maybe the problems resolve here and now or in a session or two and reappear years from now. Getting better is a process.”

“Will it ever be? Better?”

“Yes, it will. But it isn’t quite as easy and straightforward as you want it to be. There will be setbacks, there will be periods where you wished you had never started therapy, because the numb staring into a wall feels like it’s easier.”

 

Cas was sitting crosslegged in the waiting room, same as he’d done before they had their discussion, before he’d admitted his attraction to Dean.

Without hesitation, Dean placed his arms around him, hugging him like his life depended on it. Feeling Cas’ arms wrap around him without hesitation, inhaling the soft scent that belonged to him, Dean felt at peace. At home.

He didn’t want to let go, wanted to drag the moment on and on.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I also sometimes just wanna smoosh these to together and make them kiss and be happy and all.   
> Just doesn't work that way when Dean has to have his head in the game, apparently. 
> 
> Warnings for unhealthy coping mechanisms (alcohol) and Dean doing stupid shit. There is a bit more in the end-notes on that.

Two sessions more with Charlie passed without Dean feeling like he made any progress whatsoever. He was frustrated, upset and angry with himself. A big part of him longed to kiss the alpha goodnight when they went to bed together, but he always stopped himself.

He couldn’t, not when his dad’s voice kept whispering hateful things, yelling louder at him those few times he could ignore the whispers.

Dean was torn. The thought of not being with Cas scared him to death, but the thought of being with him terrified him. What if he wasn’t ever going to get better? What if John was always there, in the back of his mind, yelling harmful words at him?

How long could he ask Cas to wait, to just be patient, to let him hope that maybe one day Dean would be ready? Not forever. It’d already been going on too long before Dean even realized.

More than one time Dean had felt ready to just give up, tell Cas that he wouldn’t, couldn’t be with him. That maybe he should reconsider their living arrangement, knowing that how things were would be too painful for both of them in the long run.

Too much time was used thinking. Too much time was spent smoking, trying to calm down enough to stop his hands from shaking.

Sam didn’t have any answers, and while Charlie tried her best to help him, it really was a fucking process.

Some days it almost felt like he was getting somewhere, like he could give his old man the finger, let him know that he hadn’t been right. But mostly he just felt lost and scared.

 

Frustrated and exhausted out of his mind without a solution, without any idea of what to do with himself, Dean did what he did best.

He got out the bottle of Jack, knowing Cas wouldn’t be home until late. Something about exam preparations or a teacher meeting or… Dean hadn’t quite listened, hadn’t quite cared, too caught up in his mind at that point.

Would this evening be the one where Cas realized he was more trouble than he was worth? Dean didn’t know. Wouldn’t until Cas came home.

He didn’t bother with a glass like a civilized person, just took a swig of the flask like his dad had used to. Like a real man. More went down, maybe it was too much, maybe too fast, but Dean didn’t care.

Maybe drunk he wouldn’t have to listen to John, maybe drunk he’d leave Dean be for once.

Swallowing, the liquid burned its way down his throat. He coughed as some went down his windpipe, burning even worse there.

Fuck.

What if Cas never came back home? What if he decided that Dean wasn’t worth the wait?

What he wasn’t? What if it turned out that he was a horrible person, a terrible boyfriend? It was likely that he was sterile, years of using the strongest suppressants fucking his biology sideways… and what would Cas do with a banged up broken omega that couldn’t even provide him with a family?

Did Cas even want a family?

Dean frowned, looking at the bottle in hand like it held an answer to his questions. If it did, it didn’t bother sharing with him.

Sure Cas would want a family. His own was a bunch of dicks (he still hadn’t told Dean much, but enough that Dean had wanted to punch them. Enough that he knew Cas deserved so much fucking better) and surely anyone with a dick family would want their own, right?

Dean had Sam. His mom hadn’t been a dick. His dad had. Did he want a family?

He had no idea.

 

The door opened. Dean looked at Cas entirely confused. Was it already that late? How long had he been drinking?

“You are drunk,” the alpha said. Was it disappointment in his voice? Disgust, like Dean had so often been disgusted by his father’s behavior?

“Yup,” he agreed with a nod, considering taking another swig of the bottle.“Fuck, Cas, I kinda worried. Thought you wouldn’t come back,” he told him before he could regret the words leaving his mouth. “I like you. I thought that maybe you wouldn’t come back. Or that you would have someone with you when you came home. Or that you maybe wanted to stop this now. I would understand, u’know? I would. Totally. I’m problems and heartbreak and I don-wanna put that on you.”

Cas slowly walked closer, like Dean was a hurt animal that Cas had to calm, had to make sure he didn’t suddenly go from whimpering in pain to attack-mode. Dean would never attack Cas, but how was his alpha supposed to know that?

“I wouldn’t, Dean. If I decided that I couldn’t keep going the way things are, I would let you know beforehand, okay? I would never bring someone with me home without warning you first. I care too much about you.”

“Do you wanna have a family, Cas?”

Blue eyes blinked at him in confusion, and for a long time Cas didn’t say a thing. “I’ve never thought too closely about that. Maybe. Maybe one day.”

“What if I’m sterile and can’t give you that, huh?”

“Then there are other ways to have a family, Dean,” Castiel said gently. 

“But, Cas, you can’t be satisfied with someone like me. I’m broken seven ways to Sunday – and if I can’t even give you a fucking family, what do you want with me? I don’t, I don’t get it okay? I don’t deserve you.”

Castiel swallowed, a thumb trailing Deans cheek. He realized too late that it was wet. When had he started crying? Why was he such a pathetic excuse for an omega?

He couldn’t even get drunk without turning into a human water hose. What was wrong with him?

“Dean, please trust my judgement in this. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before. And I can wait. You take all the time you need. We will get there, okay?”

“And what if we don’t?”

“We will figure that out if it happens. But boiling it down to the essentials, we care for one another, yes? I’m in love with you, and while you are not ready to say so, I’m pretty sure that your feelings for me are somewhat close to that too.” Dean nodded hesitantly. One could say that. “I can wait, Dean. This isn’t a question about conjuring feelings not there, this is a question about you getting to the point where you can shut out what your father has taught you and make way for yourself.”

“I don’t get how you can believe this much in me.”

“That’s quite easy,” Cas gently assured him, thumb rubbing soothing circles against his face. They were so close that Dean could feel the soft huffs of breaths when the alpha talked or exhaled. Close enough that Dean had no problems scenting his sincerity even with senses muddled by alcohol.

“I like you, Cas. I like you in a way that terrifies me,” he croaked out, voice breaking with emotion. He hoped Cas got it even if he couldn’t quite use the right words, even if he wasn’t quite ready.

“I know.”

Dean leaned forward to close the space between them. He wanted to know what Castiel’s lips would feel like against his own, wanted to know what the alpha tasted like. They’d never gotten around to kissing during his heat, only reassuring pecks to his forehead or marks sucked against his throat to get his fuck-mate-breed instincts to calm.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice sounded strained, so filled with emotion that he hesitated for a second. “Please stop.”

Stop, stop? Wasn’t this what Cas wanted, too? He had to, Dean could scent his alpha’s arousal just from having Dean close. He wanted…. he wanted to get closer, wanted to kiss, wanted to take Cas back into the bedroom and…

Weak, pathetic and a faggot, that’s what he was. Jumping an alpha as soon as he was just a bit drunk. There was a reason he’d been on suppressants for as long as he had. There was a fucking reason. He wasn’t cut out to control himself, didn’t have the spine or the balls needed.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, close to tears again. It was prickling behind his lids, sour taste filling his mouth.

“I want to kiss you, too,” Cas admitted. “But I don’t want it like this, when you are too drunk to know what you are actually doing.”

“I know what I’m doing, dammit.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve wanted this for… since my heat, dammit. I was so upset that we didn’t kiss and I’ve wanted to know what it feels like for…” He shook his head, overwhelmed. Drunk emotions were the worst, too muddled to make sense and so strong they almost overtook him. “I want you, Cas.”

“I want you too, Dean,” he sounded so sad, so broken.

“Why won’t you kiss me then?”

“Because you are drunk Dean, and I’m sober. It would be taking advantage of you. If you still want this once you have sobered up, we can kiss all you want. But until this is something you can and will do without alcohol in your system, I’m not going to.” Cas took a deep breath in. Dean could feel it from where his head rested against Cas’ collarbone. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow regretting what has happened between us tonight. This would be taking advantage of you, and I – I don’t want to be like one of those alphas.”

And Dean got it, even though he was still upset that Cas rejected him, still sad that he hadn’t found out what kissing his alpha felt like. “Okay,” he agreed. “Tomorrow then?”

“Yes. If you still want it then.”

“I will,” Dean assured him without hesitation. “I will. I’ve wanted this for too fucking long.”

Cas chuckled wetly before pushing Dean back with gentle movements.

“Let’s get to bed, okay?”

He nodded in agreement, humming something that was supposed to make sense, but didn’t, and even his drunken brain could tell.

 

…

 

Dean woke up with the feeling that seven dwarfs were pounding against his head with hammers larger than they should be able to handle. His throat felt drier than Sahara and he needed to pee so bad it almost hurt.

His bed was empty, but from the smell of it, Cas had been in it just a moment before.

Stumbling like a newborn calf, he managed to get to the bathroom in time. He couldn’t remember the last time peeing had felt so fucking satisfying.

Walking out into the kitchen, he found Cas cooking bacon, wearing nothing but an apron and sweats. For a moment he let himself stand there, mouth watering.

Castiel turned around, a small and cautious smile around his lips. “I hadn’t anticipated you being up already,” he said.

“Had to pee.”

“Sit. There’s coffee, painkillers and orange juice. Food will be ready in a moment.”

“Marry me already,” Dean said as he sat. 

Cas stiffened and for a moment hurt flickered over his face. His smile turned sad. Fuck. 

He should’ve known better than to blurt something like that out, especially considering yesterday. Dean was certain that his actions had caused Cas much more harm than he’d ever be willing to admit. It couldn’t be fun, knowing that the one you where in love with wanted you, but only when drunk or in heat. Like he was Dean’s second choice or something.

It was just…

Cas was a far cry from his second choice. Considering all the people he’d felt any romantic interest towards, Cas was the one he cared for the most, and he wanted to be with him the most. Sometimes Dean wished the alpha was a girl, wished he was someone his father would approve so he didn’t have to fight himself every bit of the way. Thing was, he was pretty certain his mind would just figure out something else hurtful to yell at him instead.

“Sorry, I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking,” he said, pouring OJ in his glass.

“I know. And I’m not mad at you, Dean.” Cas was standing with his back to him still, and while maybe not mad, he was still hurt. By something Dean had said, something he’d meant as a joke.

“I don’t know what the fuck to do,” admitted Dean, frustration suddenly pouring into his voice. “I didn’t want our friendship to change, I don’t want to lose you or push you even more away. But it kinda seems like that’s the only thing I’m really capable of doing.”

“You are not pushing me away Dean.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m making you feel bad and at some point you might want to withdraw from that.”

Cas sighed. “Let me be the judge of that, alright?”

“I want to kiss you.”

The alpha turned around fast enough that Dean was worried he would trip and fall. “Pardon me. You want to what now?”

“Kiss you,” he repeated. His voice was a lot less certain the second time around, now when it wasn’t just a brain fart leaving his mouth without permission. He did want to, though. “I want to know how it feels. And you refused to yesterday.”

“Yes, and with good reason,” Cas said. Dean was pretty certain he would use that voice on his students, too. He moved uncomfortably on his chair.  

Castiel continued. “You were drunk enough I wasn’t even sure you would remember what happened, after you woke up. It would have been taking advantage of you, and I won’t do that.”

Dean swallowed down two small, white painkillers along with his juice. 

“I know, and I’m glad you didn’t,” he mumbled. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m curious. You also didn’t kiss me when I was in heat, even though you had a fake knot buried up my ass.”

Cas folded his arms, eyes narrow. “You still wouldn’t have been able to properly consent.”

“I know,” Dean sighed softly. “But I wanted it.”

“You are still drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you have to be. I’ve never heard you so much as mention this sober.” Cas didn’t have to say that it hurt him, that Dean wanting him drunk wasn’t the same as wanting him sober. And fuck if he didn’t already know that what he was doing was done in the wrong way.

But where the hell had he been supposed to learn that.

“I get it might seem like I’m still drunk. Believe me, I’m plenty hungover, that’s for sure. But I’ve been thinking about it for a long ass while. I’ve wondered what it would be like to wake up and kiss you good morning, almost done it a few times.”

Cas sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Dean. I’m not blind, and I know how to tell if someone is attracted to me. But I’m not sure you are actually ready to take this to another level without regretting it, or if you can without alcohol in your system. And I’m not about to jeopardize the progress you have already made.”

Dean frowned, not entirely sure he understood Cas’ arguments. “Why can’t I be the judge of that? I’m an adult, I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“I don’t doubt that.” But it sounded a lot like he did. “I’m just not ready to risk everything we already have. I want you to trust me, and while I already have a great deal of your trust I’m not… I don’t want to be one of those alphas to you, alright? I don’t want you to wonder afterwards if what we did was done out of anything but love, if I have any bad intentions. I want this to be something that can last, something built on mutual trust and respect.”

Cas rubbed a hand through his hair, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes.

“I don’t know, I’m scared, too. I fear that you will have the same reaction to kissing that you did to my confession. And as I said: I can only take so much. I’m willing to do a lot for you, but I’m not willing to play around with my own mental health.”

Dean knew he had to look one hell of a lot confused, because Cas continued without him needing to ask for clarification.

“I’ve had my share of bad relationships, Dean. I tend to care too much, love too much. I fall too hard. And it hurts me.”  _ I don’t want you to hurt me _ . Cas didn’t need to say that, not out loud. Dean knew that fear and could read it easily enough from the bitter tang the alphas scent was laced with, from the way his jaw worked like emotions threatened to take over.

“I…” he started.

“You don’t need to say anything. But I need to protect myself, so until you are sure, and when you’re sober as well, I’m not going to kiss you. I don’t want to just be rejected by my… by you.”

“By your what?”

Cas swallowed heavily, eyes wide. His scent changed into something almost fearful.

“You haven’t noticed? No one has said anything to you?” he asked, his voice pitching higher.

“Noticed what?”

“We have scent-bonded.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean get's drunk AF because his emotions are stirring up a storm and tries to kiss Cas which he refuses because Dean is drunk.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. Have another chapter 
> 
> Can u believe there is only one more chapter before the epilogue???

Out of everything Dean had anticipated needing to deal with, a scent bond was the last on his long list of concerns. Sure he cared about Cas, sure they had been close, but that close, really? As far as he was knew, it took a whole lot to create a scent bond. He should have noticed, should’ve known. What kind of idiot didn’t notice their own scent changing?

“Are you sure?” he asked, not really believing, not sure anyone could want him bad enough that a bond like that could form. Not sure Cas could.

“I’m certain,” Cas replied, the scent of fear changing into something warm as he realized that Dean wasn’t about to run off. “I… I thought you had figured it out as well. The change has been gradual, but by now I find that your scent has differed quite a lot to accommodate mine.”

Lifting his arm, Dean tried to sniff himself out, tried to figure out if Cas was right. He lost a lot of time wondering why no one had told him. But maybe it all boiled down to years and years on suppressants and hiding his scent. Maybe no one who spent time with him knew what he actually smelled like.

 

Even after  two more days, he still hadn’t managed to figure it out, hadn’t quite reached a point where he felt certain that Cas had been telling the truth.

But then again, what would the alpha gain by lying about such a thing? The way the hung out hadn’t changed with Dean knowing.

Nothing had changed, not really.

“Do I smell like Cas?” he asked Charlie.

Her face turned into a beam of sunlight, her smile that bright. “Oh, so he finally told you? Yes, you do.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he tried to keep any bitterness out of his voice. He wasn’t angry about it, just didn’t get the secrecy.

“I figured you had more than your share to deal with already without having to think about a scent-mate as well. And given your reaction to his love confession, it didn’t seem like a very good idea to give you more reasons to run or to question your relationship,” Charlie told him. “I know this might seem unprofessional of me, but believe me when I say I had your best interests in mind.”

Dean could feel the realization slowly creeping in. The signs had been there all along, he just hadn’t managed to figure them out.

“You care about Cas,” he said, baffled.

“He is a former client. I care that he is happy and well,” Charlie admitted reluctantly. “If you want to know more about that, you have to ask him. That does not change the fact that I didn’t tell you out of concern for your health, not his.”

Dean had already known that Cas had seen her over a prolonged period of time, sorting through issues regarding his family. He’d needed a therapist with experience in sexuality and breaking with families, he’d needed something not everyone could provide.

Naturally he’d referred Dean to someone he thought was not only good at her job, but someone he’d feel safe with. Someone Cas had felt safe with, too. 

Dean decided to change topics. He’d gotten the information he needed, there was no use in poking more around into Castiel’s past. Cas had told him bits and pieces, and Dean hoped that maybe one day, he’d get around to sharing more than that. But that probably required him to be more functional, be someone Cas felt he could rely on instead of someone dragging him down.

“I want to go out. You know, dating might be off the table for now, but… I get crazy when I stay around the house so much. I only go outside two days a week for work,” he said.

“And how is work going?”

“Fine.”

“No problems with the other guys now that you’re out of the closet, so to speak?” she asked, picking up on his short tone.

“No, not really – I’ve had a customers make trouble. Or, it’s happened twice since I came off the suppressants… But the guys at the garage have had my back. I just… at times like that, I really wished I had my suppressants and scent blockers so those sons of bitches would never know. I feel like I’m forced out in the open, forced to be something I’m not. I know I’m an omega, and I’m trying to be okay with that. People yelling slurs at me or talking to me like I’m worthless doesn’t really help,” he swallowed hesitantly before continuing. “And I hate myself for letting them get into my head like that, for letting their words hit me. I want to be able to do simple stuff like grocery shopping without worrying. Being rational and all, I know 90% of alphas behave, and having a scent bond only makes me safer, but...”

Dean shrugged, unable to figure out how to finish the sentence.

“You’re worried that you’ll never relax enough to go out for whatever reason?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“I think you should start with something small, something you’re almost certain will be a victory. Quick in and out in the store at a deserted time, maybe having Castiel or Sam with you? Knowing you have someone you trust around if something happens will decrease the stress and make you less likely to have a panic attack,” Charlie suggested. Dean nodded, he’d thought along the same lines. “And you can slowly increase the difficulty as you feel more and more comfortable. Maybe the first trip will just be for a cucumber with someone by your side at all times, and that’s fine. The important thing is that it’s a success. Take a shower beforehand, wear your blockers if that makes you a bit more comfortable.”

 

With Charlie’s words floating around his mind, Dean seated himself quietly on the passenger seat of Cas’ car.

“I want to try shopping,” he said, not looking at the alpha beside him. He could sense the change in his breathing pattern, though, like his words had somehow been a surprise to Cas.

“I know it might be a bit early, given how much I still struggle with other stuff, but I think it would be good. Charlie thinks so too. Suggested that you tagged along, take care of any knotheads,” he continued, with eyes glued to a loose thread in his pants. He needed new pants at some point, too. When was the last time he’d bought something for himself? Dean had absolutely no clue.

“I would love to do that,” Castiel replied, dragging him out of his thoughts.

Turning his head, Dean smiled at him. “Thanks. It means a lot.”

“Not a problem. How do you want to do it?”

“I’m thinking find a store that’s open late at night, go at a time where there won’t be many other customers and where the few there will probably be exhausted parents who won’t pay attention to me either way. Having very few items if any, and just… you know, in and out? Quick and easy and not a problem.” It was going to be a problem, but fuck if he was going to let a few assholes get him, fuck if he was going to let them rule his life.

Omega women dealt with shitty knotheads all the time. He could damned well do it too.

“I need this,” he told Cas, nodding to himself with the words. If he didn’t start to break down the dam, he was never going to go anywhere, he’d always be stuck in an artificial lake somewhere not knowing what could be. He just hoped he’d be able to control his reactions somewhat, that poking those walls wouldn’t turn into a catastrophic idea.

“I know. I will be there as much as you need me. Or as little,” Cas agreed before turning the key in the ignition. Even with all the work Dean had done on that car, it still didn’t sound entirely fixed.

At some point he had to convince Cas to give her up, get himself something nicer, something worth driving. Maybe something more eco-friendly too, given how much he talked about bees and the environment when Dean couldn’t sleep and the sound of his voice calmed the panic.

For some reason, he remembered it, even if he was halfway in the land of dreams when Cas talked about stuff like that.

His alpha was kinda nerdy.

There it was again.

His.

Dean had noticed having more and more sneaky thoughts like that. Maybe the scent bond wasn’t such a far fetch then. Maybe he cared more than he’d like to admit out loud.

He did really like Cas.

Really, really liked.

 

They went to the grocery store that night without incidents, not counting Dean’s half hour of panicking over his absurd idea in the shower before they left. Since it hadn’t happened in public and strictly speaking hadn’t been a panic attack, it didn’t count. Not really.

Maybe it’d been pushing his luck, maybe he hadn’t been quite ready. But having Castiel by his side, a steady arm around his shoulder whenever his courage faltered, he didn’t miss a step.

They bought nice steaks, potatoes and a salad and celebrated the victory by eating a really late dinner.

Had he known it’d be that easy, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

More than once during their dinner, Dean had wanted to lean forward, to brush the hair away from Cas’ face. Their knees touched under the table, their fingers grazed one another as they passed the salt or pepper.

It was easy and Dean loved it.

“I am impressed at how calm you seemed in the shop,” Cas told him, glass of wine in his right hand raised ever so slightly like a toast.

“You wouldn’t have been able to scent me if I wasn’t,” Dean pointed out. “I practically showered in scent blockers just to be certain.”

“They don’t hide everything and I do know your scent fairly well at this point.”

Dean shrugged. “I had you. That helped. I know I shouldn’t be depending on an alpha like that, but you keep me calm and grounded. And I really appreciate that you’e doing this for me, helping me out like this.”

“Can I ask you something?” Cas liked his lips.

Dean nodded.

“Why exactly is it that you think it is so wrong to depend on another human being? I don’t think you feeling calm around me has very much to do with our alpha/omega nature, but rather that we are compatible in other ways. I like to think we are close friends and maybe that I depend on you as much as you do on me.”

Castiel sounded so sincere, so honest. Dean would’ve laughed if anyone else had said such nonsense, but because it was Cas, he had to consider it, just a bit.

“I’ve always been told that I’m weak because of my secondary gender, Cas. I’ve always been told that’s wrong for me to depend on anyone, especially an alpha. And that’s… I know it ain’t right, of course I do, but it’s deep rooted in me, you know? I know all my sessions with Charlie should change that, and maybe it is, slowly and over time, but I still… I’m still repulsed by my own actions and by how much I need you. How much I want to be with you.” He swallowed. “And it’s so frustrating, because I can’t seem to get over the barrier in my head that keeps telling me how wrong that is, that I’m an abomination and that giving into it is giving into my nature which makes me weak.”

He could easily smell the change in his scent as it went from something sweeter and happier to the angry citrus stench it got whenever he was upset.

He didn’t like it one bit. The scent blockers were still supposed to work, still supposed to offer him some protection, some ability to hide whatever he felt.

“I just worry that it won’t get better, that I keep making progress, keep doing better in other ways, but that I’ll always be torn on the whole ‘us’ thing.”

It wasn’t easy to admit.

It wasn’t easy to deal with, either. But he needed Cas to know, needed him to understand that maybe all the love and the patience in the world wouldn’t make a difference. That maybe there was just something inside Dean’s head, broken so bad it was way beyond repair.

That maybe Dean would end up in love with Cas, but unable to love him fully.

The thought alone was heartbreaking.

“I’m so scared that you’re wasting your time on me.”

“Time used on you would never be a waste.” And of course Castiel would say something like that, of course he would do all the right things. Of course he would be there for Dean, no matter how much of an asshole he turned into or how much shit Dean put him through.

Cas deserved so much better and Dean had no idea how to let him go. Not without hurting him, and he didn’t want that, didn’t want to put him through shit like that.

He didn’t want him to leave either. But that was selfish, considering that maybe he would never be what Cas needed, what Cas wanted.

Maybe he really was just broken.

Dean got up, leaving his half finished glass of wine beside the leftovers from the beef and his mostly untouched salad. He’d wanted it to be celebratory, he’d wished it felt like a victory.

Instead the small step forward made him feel more hopeless than ever, like for the first time he could look up and see the top of the mountain previously hidden behind clouds. Like until then, he hadn’t realized how much he still had to fight, how long he still had to climb.

Never had he been more terrified of almost making it to the top just to fall down. It’d seemed so abstract before, like he hadn’t known what he was aiming for. He’d let the stream take him, followed it as it had slowly led him towards the foot of the mountain he had to climb.

One day at a time felt like bullshit.

Dean didn’t  feel like he had days left to waste like that. He’d barely managed to buy a pre-packaged salad, two steaks and potatoes for homemade parmesan fries with the help of Cas. And that was on his easy list, on what he thought was reasonably obtainable.

Warm arms enveloped him in a hug. He didn’t cry, he felt too hopeless to even consider so. His body wanted to, and Dean just couldn’t quite muster the energy. His feet had barely gotten him out of the kitchen.

Cas just held him until he started crying, held him as his breathing evened out.

“Tell me about the bees,” Dean asked. And Cas told him as got him on his feet, coaxed him to brush his teeth and change into a more comfortable tee for sleeping. Cas told him about the bumblebee, the honeybee and the wasps. He talked about the difference between domesticated bees and wild bees.

Dean fell asleep with pictures of small, fat bees buzzing behind his eyes, Cas against his back and fingers carting his hair.

He fell asleep feeling cherished and loved and he was too tired to protest.

 

...

 

A month passed with small pieces of progress. It never felt like things were moving fast enough, never felt like he would ever feel normal or alright again. If he’d ever felt like that. Dean wasn’t sure, wasn’t entirely certain that he ever had.

Some days it felt like he was moving backwards, other days it felt like he was moving forward so fast he couldn’t quite understand.

The thing between him and Cas hadn’t changed and yet it had. He wasn’t quite sure, didn’t know when or where the change had happened. They were more physical, in public as well. Dean felt more secure with his fingers laced between Cas’, more at ease. Cas just seemed to enjoy it.

They spent another heat together, Cas helping out with toys and food. Dean’s cycle was a mess and he was still bad at recognizing the symptoms. Donna had assured him it was normal and that his body needed time to adjust after prolonged suppressant use. That in time, things would be easier on him, his body and his mind. And his heats would even out until they didn’t come as often. 

While he had wanted to often enough, they still hadn’t kissed.

They also hadn’t shared any of Cas’ ruts. Instead he seemed to prefer to leave for Gabriel’s whenever those hit. Dean wasn’t sure if it left him feeling relieved or upset. Part of him wanted to, at some point, share that too. It was intimate on a whole other level, and letting Cas see him while in heat was still difficult. At the same time, he was pretty sure he wasn’t ready to face his alpha in a situation like that. The smell that still clung to him when he returned home was more than enough to send Dean straight into a shower, dealing with a hard on.

He would probably just embarrass them both by presenting if faced with Cas in full rut.

But things were okay. It was getting better. 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first of all, sorry for the delay with this chapter. Ya all know how life can be a bitch. 
> 
> I'm working on the epilogue, I have the ideas mostly down, now it just needs to turn into readable words. I therefore also do not know when it will be posted - but soon. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter includes a really fucking nasty nightmare. Otherwise it's purely fluff.

Since Castiel seemed hesitant to push towards progressing their relationship, Dean had decided to ask him out, on a real date. He’d discussed it with Sam and Charlie, and both agreed that it would be a nice step forward. Shopping was still a challenge on bad or very busy days, but he was doing so much better that it seemed like a natural step. Not just for them, but for himself as well. He wanted to be able to go out without worrying.

John’s voice yelled at him as he stammered out his suggestion to Castiel, yelled that it wasn’t right, that he was weak by submitting himself to an alpha like that.

It was just… Dean didn’t care. Didn’t want to give it the power or the time of the day. He couldn’t shut it out, not entirely, but he sure could ignore it. His sessions with Charlie had slowly paid off like that, with him capable of simply ignoring the voices in his head. Maybe he would always hear his father yelling at him, maybe it would stop altogether one day.

Dean figured it was likely somewhere in between.

He was fretting about what to wear for their date, his mind darting from place to place. He was going to pick Cas up from work. Sandwiches were chilling in the fridge along with beers and a pie was baking away. He’d considered going somewhere public, but at the same time he didn’t want to risk screwing things up, not on their first date. There’d be plenty of time to face his fears, plenty of time to face fucked up dates and bad behavior from other people.

Tonight they were going on a picnic in the outskirts of the city. It was a bit of a drive, but Dean didn’t mind.

“I need to go shopping,” he murmured to himself. A lot of his clothing was old and in bad shape, covered in grease that had stained through his overalls at work. For so long, he’d aimed to look somewhat unattractive. None of it truly fit, none of it showed off his assets. He’d bought it on purpose, trying so hard to blend in with the masses.

Now he had someone he felt like seducing, someone he wanted to look at him with admiration and passion. And he had nothing to fucking wear.

Why hadn’t he thought about it before? He could’ve ordered something online. Heck, he could’ve asked Sam or Cas to go shopping with him, even if standing practically naked in a fitting room made his skin crawl.

Dean grumbled, frustrated at the contents of his closet.

Maybe showing up overdressed was better in the end. Wearing a button down would be a bit much for a picnic, but Cas would appreciate it nevertheless. He still had the green one from Sam’s graduation. With a bit of luck it would still fit.

And just maybe he had a pair of jeans that didn’t look like they’d gone three rounds with a dirty engine beforehand.

 

Feeling ridiculously overdressed, Dean packed the picnic basket, securing a blanket on top of it. It was going to be so fucking cozy. Cas had been so overjoyed when Dean had asked him to be ready for a date in the afternoon.

Checking his phone to confirm the time he had already read off the oven, Dean sent off a text to Cas to let him know that he was on his way, and would pick him up outside the school in just about 20 minutes.

Cas returned his text with a happy emoji. Sap.

As if lifted by spirits, Dean jumped down the stairs to the parking lot. An idiotic smile was tugging at his mouth, butterflies in his chest.

It’d been a damned long time since he’d looked forward to something this much.

The weather was perfect, and Dean found himself singing along to AC/DC as he drove through the city. It felt like a fucking victory. It was going to be so damned perfect.

He was happy.

Castiel waved excitedly at him from the parking lot, looking suspiciously like a teenager being picked up by their crush.

Only he was a bit too old and way too attractive for a teenager.

“Ready to ride off into the sunset?” Dean asked, giddy. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so carefree.

“Always,” Cas agreed.

The scent of happy alpha, happy mate, permeated the air of the car. Dean could get high off that scent, wanted to breath it in every day.

He was pleased to note that his own scent blended in with it, the sweeter notes balancing out the heavier in Castiel’s perfectly.

“Do you mind me asking what we are going to do?” Cas interrupted his thoughts.

“Look over your shoulder,” replied Dean.

If the spike in Castiel’s scent was anything to go by, he was more than pleased with what Dean had planned for their very first date.

“I’d given it a lot of thought, you know? I considered taking us to a restaurant or something along those lines, but going public also means risking people being shit, and I didn’t feel like that. I didn’t want our first date to turn sour because people are shitty,” he said casually, slowly taking the speed off for a turn down a gravel road. “There’ll probably be some around, with the weather being what it is, but I hope we can find somewhere mostly in peace.”

“I’m sure we can manage.”

Dean let the impala slowly roll over the gravel, carefully steering around the potholes when he could. It was a public lake, part of the shore covered with sand to make a beach. He’d been there a few times before Sam moved out, so he knew the trail going around the lake well enough. While benches were few and far between, there were plenty of clearings perfect for a picnic.

Dean rolled into the parking lot. After shutting the engine, the world seemed quiet for a moment. Happy screams from children playing in the water disturbed the silence quickly, but he didn’t mind.

Cas grabbed the basket as they made their way around the trail. Both seemed content with not talking, with just enjoying the sounds of nature and playing kids.

It didn’t take long before they found a spot a bit from the trail, well enough hidden that they would have some degree of privacy from other hikers.

 

Both men hungry, the sandwiches were quickly devoured. The pie stood between them along with the coffee he’d made and brought in a thermos.

“I’m really glad you decided to do this,” Castiel said, his eyes distant. His smile was soft and warm, the kind that made his knees go weak.

“Me too,” he agreed.

“Would you… I’ve been putting off asking you for a date, never quite knowing if you were ready or not,” the alpha sighed. “I’ve meant to, wanted to, for a very long while. Does this mean that you would appreciate me taking initiative for something along those lines?”

“I’ve wanted to date you properly for quite a while, Cas,” Dean admitted. “I’ve wanted to be a lot more than just friends for a long while. I know that it might not always have been what I’ve said to you or acted like.”

“We were never just friends, Dean.”

“I know. I know it was always more than that. Profound bond or something. Not counting Sam, you’re the one I feel most comfortable with, the most at ease around. It’s always been like that for me, I just didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t feel like I was allowed to act on it,” he continued, butterflies intensifying in his stomach. Even surrounded by nature, by so many scents, his own nervousness peeked through. A softer acid than when he was scared or upset, more the sour from lemon curd than eating the lemon on its own.

He could tell his words confused Cas, but the confusion was laced in with so much hope that Dean couldn’t keep quiet, couldn’t wait for the alpha to figure things out on his own.

“I’m saying I want to make things between us official. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I’ve been yours for so long now Cas, it seems right. If you still want me, that is.” He knew, rationally, that of course Cas would still want him. Had he changed his mind, he would’ve walked out a long time ago. He still couldn’t help the nervousness making his voice crack a bit, or how his throat was tight with emotion. 

“I could never not want you Dean.”

That was all the confirmation he needed to hear. Pushing the pie out of the way, Dean moved the few inches closer towards Cas.

“You said you wanted our first kiss to be when I was sober and not in heat. I get that now. Get why.”

Asking for permission without words, he waited a split second, enough to register the dilation in Castiel’s pupils, the confirmation in his smile. Dean leaned in where he could scent the pie on Cas’ breath, feel the warmth from the huffs of breath, coming faster now that he was close.

Soft lips met his. It felt like coming home. Dean couldn’t help but press himself into the kiss, asking, begging for more. It felt so right. Cas replied willingly to his request, opening his mouth ever so slightly, granting him access.

Castiel tasted like coffee with sugar and hints of apple pie.

They pulled from one another, Dean panting softly, overwhelmed by emotions. “I can’t believe it took me that long to work up the nerve to kiss you.”

“Me neither,” Cas agreed, leaning in. He replied readily with another soft kiss, another gentle exploration of boundaries.

Kissing felt good. Safe.

“I could do this all day,” he mumbled.

 

Driving home, Dean felt happier than he had ever before. For once the ever present voice of John had shut its cakehole and let him be, for once he’d been able to do what he felt like.

Castiel gave off nothing but happy, content alpha underlined with just a hint of arousal. Dean knew he smelled similar. Part of him had wanted to do nothing more than hump Cas out there in the forest like a horny teenager, but doing it right the first time around at the least felt more important.

Considering a laughing family had interrupted them just seconds after their heated make-out session, it was probably a good thing they’d decided to cool it.

They brushed their teeth side by side, Cas following Dean into his bedroom, same as he had  for so long already.

It didn’t feel like anything had changed, yet Dean knew everything had.

Somehow he’d worked up the nerve to call Castiel his. To kiss him. To take things a step closer towards making them a real, mated couple.

“You smell happy,” Cas remarked as he spooned Dean from behind.

Dean hummed in agreement. “I’m glad our date went well, I’m happy that we were mostly undisturbed. And wondering why the hell neither of us did something like this earlier.”

Castiel’s fingers traced soft patterns over his shoulders, making him feel spoiled.

“I’m wondering the same thing myself. But I feared pushing you into something you weren’t ready for.” He swallowed thickly. “Maybe I also didn’t for selfish reasons. I know that I shouldn’t fear you leaving like that again, but I do. I worried that if I pushed you, you would leave at some point. You seemed content with the way things were, so why push matters?”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It’s not, I overwhelmed you, I’m at fault too for that. I should have waited, respected that maybe you weren’t ready to hear confessions like that.”

“Stop blaming yourself for everything. Everything that happens isn’t on your shoulders.”

“Yours, either,” Cas retorted. 

Dean just sighed. It was an old argument between them. Dean took on too much, and he knew it. There was a reason he’d let things get as bad as they had before listening to the whole therapy-thing. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know how bad it was, hadn’t wanted to be a burden.

Maybe he did take on too much, but so did Cas.

Dean turned around and kissed him goodnight, softly and just because he was finally allowed. Just because soft kisses shared before sleeping was no longer a dream or a figment of his imagination.

No heat burned in his veins, the kisses short and sweet and nothing more than gentle assurance and promise about being there the following morning as well.

 

…

 

_ Dean was walking down the halls of his high school, looking around, confused. He hadn’t been back there for long, not since he graduated. It was the first place he’d truly learned discrimination towards omegas was real, and that he could count on nothing but his own fists. _

_ Somehow he could sense that something was wrong. _

_ Cas needed him. Cas was in danger. His entire being was screaming. Dean needed to find him. _

_ He fled down the hallways, ran as fast as his legs would take him, screeching around the corners. He tripped, fell, got up. Kept running, past the principal's office and the cafeteria. _

_ Out into the football field. _

_ He could scent the blood before he saw Cas. Thick and sweet, metallic. It made him want to gag. The fear was so potent. _

_ He followed the scent, didn’t want to. _

_ It was like he knew. Knew what he was going to find. _

_ Cas was lying on his back on the field, blood trickling from his open mouth and eyebrow, pooling beneath his head. _

_ His face had already started to swell and bruise. It had to hurt so bad. How was he even alive? _

_ Getting closer, Dean realized that he wouldn’t be much longer. The sharpness of adrenaline, of other alphas was potent. He couldn’t pinpoint them, couldn’t remember their faces, but he still knew their scents. They had harmed him, and now they were hurting his mate. _

_ Cas tried turning his head. What was without a doubt him trying to smile reassuringly looked like a grimace of pain. _

_ “Don’t worry, I’ll get help. I’ll get someone to come for you, you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” he rasped out desperately while fumbling for a phone he didn’t have in his pocket. _

_ Dean was torn between getting up, running and screaming until someone found him, someone found Cas. Someone had to be around, they couldn’t be alone. _

_ But they were, he realized. He hadn’t met anyone running through the halls, couldn’t hear, sense or scent anyone around. _

_ “Stay,” Cas asked, voice hoarse and wet like he had blood in his windpipe. _

_ Dean knelt, grasped Castiel’s hand. The tips were cold, pulse just a weak sense underneath the skin. _

_ “I could never leave you,” he replied. It wasn’t what he had meant to say. He wanted to tell Cas how badly he loved him, how he couldn’t do without. _

_ But no matter how hard Dean tried, the words wouldn’t come. _

_ Cas looked at him like he understood, blue eyes shiny in a wrong way. _

_ Dean could feel his hand grow cold slowly. He knew well enough what it meant, Cas was dying. And there was nothing Dean could do about it. No one would save them this time. _

_ How long he kneeled, Dean had no idea. _

_ “I love you,” he said, but looking down at Cas told him that it was too late. The alpha’s eyes were no longer focused, the life had left them. Dean didn’t know how long ago. _

_ He’d been too late. _

 

When Dean woke up, tears were streaming down his face. Castiel was lying with his back facing him, not yet awake even though the bedroom reeked of upset omega.

Dean reached out.

Castiel’s skin was cold.

Desperately he tried shaking Cas awake.

“Don’t be dead, please, Cas, come on, wakeup, come on, please,” his pleas got more and more desperate.

Strong arms engulfed him.

“I’m not dead, Dean. Shush, I’m here, I’m fine, it was a nightmare.”

“You were de-ead,” he cried out, hiding his face against Cas’ shoulder.

“I’m not dead,” Cas repeated gently.

“You’re cold, you were dead. You died. I held your hand. You were so cold,” Dean tried to explain.

A gentle click told him that Cas had turned on the lights.

“Hey, I’m fine, alright? I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up, but I’m not dead. Just a heavy sleeper sometimes.”

“You’re cold,” Dean knew he sounded pathetic, but his fear was still very real, very present. He could still feel how Cas’ hand had turned cold in his as his heart gave up. Beaten to death, all alone.

And Dean hadn’t even been able to tell him how he truly felt.

“I had kicked off the comforter. Here,” Cas grabbed his hand, moved it from his ice-cold backside and to his warmer chest, just above his heart. “Can you feel that?” He took a deep breath as Dean watched.

“You had a nightmare. I’m alright,” he said again, like he was waiting for Dean to get it.

“You’re alright,” Dean repeated, voice breaking with it. “I just, it felt so real. I could feel your heart give out, I could smell the blood and see the bruises. I was… I was so scared that I never got…” his throat tightened again.

“I know Dean.”

Cas hugged him again, kept hugging him until Dean had calmed enough for them to return to sleep.

 

…

 

There were times when Dean considered whether he ever would be somewhat normal and functional. Nightmares like that often made him question those things.

He’d made himself a cup of coffee and rummaged in the cupboard until he’d found a package of cigarettes he’d long forgotten he’d placed there. It was just one of those days, one of those mornings. While he’d managed to sleep, the lingering feeling from the nightmare was still in his body, making him anxious.

A cup of coffee out on the balcony seemed reasonable and very needed. He’d gradually stopped smoking, slowly in a way where he’d barely realized it himself. Mornings like this, he missed it a bit.  

He was grateful that it was Saturday, and he didn’t have work to worry about.

Would the nightmares ever truly leave him alone? He had no idea. One thing he was sure about was that he needed to talk to Castiel, needed to tell him how he felt. While Dean was certain Cas knew, somewhere, deep down, especially after what he had said about making things official on their date… it just still seemed important that he knew. Knew Dean loved him, knew that Dean had been serious in everything he had said.

Castiel didn’t seem to care that he was a bit broken and bent. He cared if it hurt Dean, but if it turned out that the shit was just how it was meant to be, Dean knew Cas would be there. Through every panic attack, nightmare or freak out without any seemingly good reason. He knew he had his best friend, his mate, the love of his life, right there beside him.

So maybe things really wouldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows and cute kittens and unicorns, and so what? They could still love one another, it would still be enough a lot of the time.

It wasn’t like Cas was perfect or didn’t have any skeletons hiding in his closet. Wasn’t like he was good with his words or talking about feelings either. Better than Dean, but heck, that didn’t take a whole lot.

Maybe they were a pretty good fit after all.

 

When Cas emerged on the balcony with a cup of coffee of his own, wearing Dean’s robe over a pair of boxers, Dean figured it was as good a time as any.

He looked beautiful, the morning sun kissing his hair with golden colors, confident and relaxed in his own skin.

“I love you,” Dean said.

Cas turned his head towards him, eyes wide in confusion and lips turning towards a smile as his brain processed what Dean was saying.

“Castiel Novak, I love you.” The joy filling his chest moved through his throat, into his face. His smile had to mirror the big grin Cas was sporting.

Dean knew he had never seen him happier. He’d never felt happier himself.

 

 

 

The end


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot stress enough the help and love [Adaille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaille/pseuds/adaille)  
> has given me throughout the process of this. Without them to scree at me there would probably be no epilogue (because fuck I'm bad at fluff ya all), and it also wouldn't have been worth reading for all the mistakes.   
> No amounts of thanks are big enough for the amount of time you have put into this Ada. 
> 
> Also this is maybe 60% fluff and 40% sad-something because I'm shit a fluff. Oh yes, and smut. Fucking finally. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you who has stuck with me throughout, who has patiently waited for the epilogue to appear. I have appreciated every single kudo and or comment. It has made my smile on rainy days.

To say that things were good would maybe be an overstatement. Most of the time it was the case. Most of the time Dean felt alright.

Not all the time though. He still woke up from nightmares from time to time, still had issues with public places and still hadn’t moved on to buy clothes in a real store instead of online.

But he was working on it.

His biweekly sessions with Charlie were a faint memory, instead they met up once or twice a month depending on how much he needed it. It had been three times over Christmas, but as she had gently reminded him, Christmas wasn’t an easy time for those who where missing loved ones.

She was right about that.

 

“I’m sorry to keep you up this much,” Dean mumbled, staring at his cup of coffee longingly. It was still too hot to drink.

“No worries,” Cas answered.

“Yeah. I do need to worry. I’m almost as bad as when you first moved in.”

“It’s normal Dean. I know it feels like you are moving backwards instead of making progress, but trust me. It’s all part of getting better,” Cas said, stirring his spoon around in the coffee.

Klink, klink, klink, the metal sang against the porcelain.

“You keep saying that. It feels like I’m broken seven ways to Sunday all over.” He opted for sipping the scalding coffee. A minor burn was preferable to waiting another minute to get his fix of caffeine.

The sound of metal against cup continued. When Dean looked up, finally looked at Cas, it was clear that the alpha was struggling to choose his words, to figure out what to say.

“I know I haven’t told you much about what happened back when I moved out…” he started, refusing to meet Dean’s gaze. “But at first I was doing well. Maybe too well in hindsight, being 17 and having just broken it off with most of my family. But they were toxic, and moving out from there, it felt like I could finally breathe, if you understand what I mean?”

Dean nodded slowly. He’d felt like that for a period. Up until Christmas stuck it’s ugly face forward and reminded him to be happy and jolly when all he felt was the sorrow of not having his parents there with him. Fuck if John had been a shitfuck excuse for a parent. Dean still missed him.

“So after having suppressed myself and how I felt for so long, I all of a sudden felt free, until it all came crashing down. Gabriel considered having me admitted to the psych ward for a period of time, fearing that much for my sanity. Hearing that who, what, you are is wrong for so long from the people who were supposed to love you unconditionally…” Cas shook his head, expression grim. “Maybe breaking wasn’t really that surprising. But I slowly got better, Gabriel hooked me up with all the right people. I was good for a few years after that, I finished school, I had a boyfriend. I thought I was on top of the world, and I wasn’t. I learned that the hard way. I think when depression hit the second time around it almost felt worse. I’d tasted what the world was without it, I thought I’d beat it and it meant I had some sort of immunity. I was wrong. I still struggle sometimes. I miss my family too, during Christmas. But for each year I manage, it gets a bit easier. For each time I fall down that ugly black hole, it gets a little less difficult to get back up.”

Dean blinked at him. He hadn’t prepared for Castiel finally opening up a bit about his youth. But he was honoured.

“I think I understand,” he finally said, lifting the slightly cooler coffee to his lips. And maybe he really did, for the first time. Cas had seen his fair amount of struggles too. He would never judge Dean, never see him as weak, he’d been there himself. Cas weren’t just pushing Dean for some odd and unknown reasons. He knew how much it took and why starting sooner rather than later on the whole getting better was key. 

“It takes a lifetime, Dean. Time does heal all wounds, but you are still left with the scars. Those you have to learn how to live with.”

“Wanna go shopping with me later? For a shirt or something?” he blurted out. Cas looked at him surprised before his face broke into a big smile.

“I would love nothing more.”

 

…

 

Dean swallowed as he watched his image in the dressing room mirror.

Licking his lips nervously, he pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the dressing room. Cas’ blinding smile met him.

Turning around like he had everything under control, Dean let him admire him in pants that fit, let him take in how well he could look when taking care of himself.

“I think this is a great pair,” Cas rumbled. “The darker ones were good too, but I like these better.”

Dean grinned. The slightly distressed denim he was currently wearing did show off his assets.

“I still have a few more to try.”

Dean turned around, walked back into the dressing room to test out another outfit.

He couldn’t help but look at his neck, at the place where a mating bite would go. It felt like it was just a matter of time, a matter of them having yet another grown up talk about their wishes and desires.

Maybe he could ask Charlie or Sam for advice on how to ask Cas to make it final, to make Dean his for the world to see.

The tee he was currently trying on would show off a mating bite nicely.

 

Dean was exhausted by the time they drove back from the store with several bags filled with new clothing. It had taken him longer than he’d like to admit to go shopping with Cas. But as Charlie sometimes reminded him, he was allowed to take the time he took to be ready to face the horrors of shopping.

“You did really well,” Cas interrupted his thoughts. “I did not expect you to try on that much or …clothing that fit so well, for that matter.” His voice dropped dangerously low, making Dean swallow.

“So you like what I picked out?” he asked, knowing the answer from Castiel’s tone already.

“I do,” his alpha confirmed.

Dean sent him a wide grin. “Maybe I’ll wear something of your choice for New Years.”  

Castiel hummed, smiling as Dean turned on the blinker for a right turn.

The car smelled like happy couple. Like mates. Like love and friendship. And Dean did feel happy. Really happy.

Fuck, being with Cas was just about the best thing that had ever happened to him. It wasn’t that Cas had been a miracle cure to anything, but his steady support had meant the world in Dean’s recovery. He couldn’t think of anyone he would rather be with. Couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else.

Cas was his already, had been since the day he placed his books onto Dean’s shelves and made his apartment home again.

“Ever think about mating?” he asked, heart hammering in his chest, terrified suddenly.

“Yes.” Cas’ reply came without hesitation. “Often. I just wanted to...”

“If you say give me space, God help you,” Dean interrupted. “I don’t need space Cas, not from you, not anymore.”

Castiel started laughing beside him. “I’m relieved to hear that. I’d planned to ask you a little more formally, but never mind. Dean Winchester, would you do the honor of mating me and make me the happiest man on earth?”

Dean didn’t need time to think, didn’t need to be asked twice. Cas had been there through his lowest points, supporting him with almost endless patience and love. There was no one else for Dean, there never had been.

“Fuck yes.”

 

New Year’s Eve was on them in almost an instant. It didn’t feel like it had been three days since they’d agreed on mating, it had felt more like a lifetime.

There still was no bite for Dean to show off, but knowing they were on the same page had Dean vibrating with joy. Waking up the scent of Cas smelling like his mate and knowing it was a soon-to-be reality made the nightmares easier to forget.

He almost felt like he’d fallen in love all over again.

Cas bought fresh produce and some fancy ass steak at a local butcher to prepare them a master meal after Sam had asked if it was cool for him to celebrate New Year’s with his girlfriend. He’d finally asked Eileen out in the early days of December and it had quickly turned more serious than that.

Dean bought the wine. As it turned out, there was a fancy ass wine shop just a block down, owned by a talkative and nice man. After hearing Cas’ choice of meat and sides, he’d paired Dean up with a good red wine for the main course, a semi-sweet white for dessert and bubbles for the 12-o’clock toast.

It turned out a lot more pleasant and a lot less expensive than he’d anticipated.

 

Cas dressed in a pair of tight black jeans for the evening, and Dean found his eyes straying suspiciously often to Castiel’s ass. Wasn’t his fault his partner looked so damned hot.

After debating with himself on and off on what to wear, he ended up with the distressed jeans Cas had so obviously admired him in at the store and the tee that went low enough to show off a mating bite. Maybe tonight would be the night. Maybe Dean would start out the new year as a taken man.

He found that he didn’t mind that thought one bit.

Happy with his own choices, he walked confidently into the kitchen, sending Cas a blinding smile.

“You look good,” his alpha rumbled.

“So do you,” Dean answered, pressing Cas against the counter, kissing him hungrily. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to focus on cooking while you are wearing those pants.”

“Does that mean you would rather have me wearing boxers and an apron?” Cas asked innocently.

Dean grinned wolfishly.

Yes, he would like that very much. Maybe not for their special New Year’s Eve night, but for any other time.

 

Cooking went smoothly. After having lived together for as long as they had, they moved almost like they knew where the other was going to be. Cas managed the sides while Dean enjoyed the view from the kitchen counter. The meat was resting with a bit of salt. Bringing it to room temperature along with removing excess moisture would ensure the best caramelization of the crust.

Watching Cas cook was something that Dean really loved doing.

He really did belong in that kitchen like salt and pepper did.

 

They ate in mostly silence, enjoying their meal and the wine Dean had picked up.

“You need to come with me down there one day, Cas. The guy really knows what he is talking about and he is so nice.”

“I would enjoy that very much.”

Dean wished he could keep more focus on eating, wished he maybe had taken the time to enjoy it a bit more. But his thoughts kept going to what would happen next. Would Cas like the thought of waking up January the first, drunk on love and hormones instead of wine?

What could be more romantic than each new year reminding them of the one they chose each other for good?

Dean hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud.

Cas was beaming at him. He’d never seen anyone radiating pure happiness like Cas did that moment.

“I would like that very much Dean.” His voice was gravel, rumbling with emotion.

Dean got up. “Come on then.”

The chair scraped against the floor as he hurried from the table, running the few meters into their bedroom, letting Castiel chase him for the first time.

He’d never felt the thrill of letting someone do that before, never felt the anticipation burning in his veins like that.

Growling, his alpha caught him just before he reached the bed and manhandled him down onto the soft covers. He could feel slick coating the inside of his boxers.

“Fuck, mate me, alpha,” Dean whined, his dick throbbing in his pants.

“Yes,” Cas agreed, licking up Dean’s neck, tasting the soft skin there like he’d never done it before.

Dean’s hips bucked out against his will, seeking friction so desperately. He needed Cas inside him, needed to feel full, to be fucked and mated. He whimpered as Cas pressed a hand to his denim-covered crotch, giving him a taste of what he so desperately needed.

The alpha dropped down to help him out of the stiff denim. He’d already soaked the backside with slick, so ready it almost hurt.

“Please.”

Cas took his sweet time getting Dean’s jeans and boxers down his legs, removing his socks and then the tee. Small kisses were places all over Dean’s body in the process, adding to the growing desperation. His dick was steadily leaking pre-come as Cas pushed him down onto the mattress.

Strong hands pinned his hips down as his alpha started slowly licking along his shaft in small teasing motions. Like Dean needed any foreplay.

Moaning, he writhed against Cas’ hands, allowing himself to enjoy being manhandled as his dick was finally enveloped in the warm, hot heat of Castiel’s mouth.

Cas sucked him slowly, humming around his dick and sending vibrations straight up his spine, making his brain go haywire.

“I need you, please Cas, need you to fuck me,” Dean pleaded.

“As you wish,” his alpha agreed. He was still fully clothed. As he got up to undress, Dean moved his hand down, finger slipping into his own wet hole easily.

Cas stopped for a moment, watching hungrily as Dean’s finger slipped in and out of him.

Then he got into action, stripping down faster than humanly possible before he growlingly removed Dean’s fingers to replace them with his own.

“Oh fuck,” Dean whined. It felt so good, so right, and it just wasn’t quite enough, not entirely what he needed.

His alpha seemed to understand, seemed to get what it was he so desperately was needing.

Dean could taste himself on Cas’ lips as the blunt head of his dick finally pushed against his entrance. He was wet and open and oh so fucking ready.

It was agonizingly slow at first, but at Dean’s pleas Cas picked up the pace, slamming home. Shifting his hips it was easy to get him to hit just right, having the edge creep close way too fast.

“Mate me alpha,” Dean demanded.

“Yes, yes,” Cas agreed, licking up Dean’s neck while desperately trying to keep up a rhythm. Dean could feel his knot starting to inflate, ready to lock them together.

“I need you.”

Cas bit down just as his knot started to catch Dean’s rim. He cried out, the painful pleasure singing in his veins as the mating bond took hold. He could sense Cas’ pleasure along with his own and he came hard, untouched, as his mate emptied himself inside him.

He could hear himself whimpering softly as a response to Cas asking him to return the bite.

Dean had no trouble picking out the perfect spot. Sinking his canines into the soft meat of Castiel’s shoulder had him coming a second time, the overwhelming sensation of love, lust and his alpha’s pleasure rippling through him with force.

 

It took a good while before Cas’ knot went down.

They showered slowly together, enjoying touching each other and admire the mating bites. Both opted for just jeans as they celebrated New Years with a glass of champagne.

Dean woke up in the new year as a mated and much happier omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also want to take this chance to stress a few things. 
> 
> If you are struggling and your recovery is like Deans or not what so ever nearby that, both is fine. You do you at your pace, and nothing is wrong and right in the road to getting better.   
> For some people therapy works great. It might take a few therapist's to find one that suits you, so don't give up if the first ain't your cup of tea. For some therapy might not work, and that's entirely fine too. 
> 
> What I'm trying to say is that you are strong. You deserve to feel good and be happy with yourself, but how you get to that point is not something anyone can tell you.


End file.
